


The Story of the Ferryman

by bat_addicted_loony



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, This Is STUPID, and if not then I didn't do my research properly and I apologise, everything remains canon, goes with the Percy Jackson series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-30
Updated: 2015-11-09
Packaged: 2018-04-28 23:40:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 30,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5109725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bat_addicted_loony/pseuds/bat_addicted_loony
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Underworld is no place for the living.<br/>Then what the hell is this little kid doing here?</p><p>When young Dylan Thompson finds himself returning to the business of the Greek equivalent of the afterlife over and over again, it's up to him to find the missing Ferryman and find the culprit behind it. </p><p>Contains grumpy Lord of the Dead, fluffy Cerberus and lots of dead people.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Pilot - The Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I can explain..
> 
> This is a story I've had in mind for years now but I've only recently developed it into the Percy Jackson universe (because that's my life now). I've got the basic storyline in my head, all I need to do is plan the details to set everything right.  
> Now what I'm wondering is if this story would be interesting to read for... well, anyone. If it is, I'll gladly post this story online for everyone to enjoy! If not, I'll just keep writing in private.
> 
> Basically, feedback is appreciated. Kudos mean that people are interested, contrsuctive critisism is ALWAYS welcome! English is not the language I grew up with nor do I study writing or languages in any way. (I do study animation so I do know the bits of story building... is what I tell myself to sleep at night.)
> 
> Anyway, enjoy!

To be honest, I should’ve seen it coming. Or not… depends, I guess. I mean, I’m blind so seeing things coming is not a talent of mine. I suppose that’s also the most important thing I should mention; I am completely blind, have been ever since I was eight. I’m sixteen now so I’ve gotten loads of time to get used to it, don’t worry. It doesn’t bother me anymore… much. Off course now and then I’ll burst into tears because of the overwhelming realization that I’ll never see colors or my mother’s face ever again.

I’m getting off topic. ADHD, that’s also a thing – though it comes handy with having to notice things you can only hear and not see.

I should’ve definitely seen it coming that I was destined to spend most of my time in the Underworld, of all places. Although, when I think about it, I couldn’t have been destined to be anywhere more fitting. Dark and filled with shadows, none of which bothers me anymore. Take that! Hearing ghosts and knowing where and when a person would die before it even happened are just bonuses.

Enough with the joking… for now. Yes, I could communicate with ghosts at a very young age, though I didn’t know they were ghosts until after I became blind. I’ve long since learned not to be scared of them. They’re just very very lost and are very friendly. If it hadn’t been for them, I’d have been royally fucked on multiple occasions. And in the end, all they want is to get to the Underworld and finally rest, if their judgement is so merciful. But that’s a part of the job I rather stay away from. All I have to do is bring aforementioned ghosts to the other side of the river, maybe help a stray ghost on the surface if they’re really lost. Contrary to popular believe, entrances to the Underworld aren’t easy accessible. Except for me maybe. And kids of Hades, off course, though there aren’t a lot of them currently.

Technically, entrances to Erebos are everywhere. It’s how to find them and how to get in that’s tricky. Again, not so tricky for me. I just have to touch the nearest doorway with my hand and bam, there it is. It’s how I found myself at the edge of the River Styx for the first time.

It was a few months after the doctors had officially declared me permanently blind, though they couldn’t exactly explain how. I had a very bad seizure that made me pass out and wake up with no vision. The verdict was that the seizure must’ve been so bad, a part of my brain had shut down. I was lucky it was just the part that made me see, ‘it could’ve been much worse’. I mean, yeah… I guess. From then on it was learning how to read braille, how to walk with a stick, how to judge an environment by smell, touch and sounds, all that fun stuff. Good times, good times.

It was my first time walking in public without someone to guide me. It was a familiar road I had gone across many many times before so I knew the bumps and turns (though not without tripping over some I’d missed, it’s a reoccurring theme). I was passing one of the entrances to central park when – get this – I sensed something. Don’t ask me to describe what it was because I really can’t. All I knew was that I really wanted to follow it. So I went inside the park, wandering around, trusting my instincts to I had no idea where. At some point I came across a wall, I think. When I touched it, I felt rough stones that, I swear, opened up as soon as my fingers brushed the surface. A cold breeze came from where the crack had opened up just enough for me to squeeze in. I don’t know why I thought it was a good idea to actually get in there but it just felt so right. The more I crept inside the crack, the more whispering voices I heard. I again don’t know how I know they weren’t of solid living people, but I did. It was like their voices sounded like the mist they were made of. That’s how I distinguish ghosts from living people to this day, they sound like mist while regular people sound solid.

As I kept going down the crevice, the sense of right grew stronger and stronger until the crack opened up in what I assumed was a cavern. The walls were further away from each other and my breathing echoed through the chamber. In the distance, I could hear water flow and drip down from the ceiling. Eight year old me was happy to have found a cave, maybe I’d find a pirate treasure! Which wasn’t that far from the truth but I’d have liked it more literally too. The misty voices sounded much clearer too, I could actually understand what they were trying to tell me:

_“Careful for the water,” “it’s so quiet here,” “there’s something in the water,” “how did we get here?” “How will we get across?”_

I kept walking with one hand firmly planted against the wall, with here and there a misty comment of “large rock incoming, don’t fall over it.” I was serious when I said ghosts have helped me a lot of times. I mean, my walking stick helps but I’ve always been really clumsy.

After a while, the mist-voices started describing the place we were in.

_“It’s so dark here,” “There are shadows but nothing to make them,” “What’s making the shadows?” “Where does the light come from?” “There are people across the river,” “There is a black castle across the river.”_

A black castle? Now that sounded quite interesting. I paused mid step and turned my head towards where the sound of moving water was coming from.

“What does the castle look like?”

_“It’s black,” “It’s big,” “It looks like it’s made of black marble,” “or crystals,” “there are green fires,” “but no windows,” “it looks beautiful.”_

I felt sick of the thought that I’d never be able to see the beautiful castle for myself and excited to explore the mystery building. The mists agreed with me.

_“I feel attracted to it,” “I want to go over there,” “I want to go across the river.”_

“What are we waiting for? Let’s go then.” I pointed towards where I thought the river was and the mists told me to go that way, but to be careful. “How do we get across? Is there a bridge or something nearby?” 

_ “I can see a boat on your left.”  _

With the guidance of the voices, I shuffled my way slowly to where the boat was. When I touched it, it felt old, worn, as if no one had used it for a very long time, or at least hadn’t taken care of it since dinosaurs roamed the earth. I fell in love with it instantly. I got in, carefully, and pretending as if I was using oars to row us across. I think the boat and I made an instant connection because it actually started moving. It was going to be the most exciting treasure hunt ever! I got very quickly lost in my excitement. 

When we arrived at the opposite side of the river, I was so excited to be exploring a new area with new friends. A lot more mist people started to surround me, asking me question and making sure I didn’t trip over any stray rocks or bumps in the ground. I only found out later some of those rocks were skulls or half buried bodies. I remember playing around with some of the mist people that sounded like they were my age. The older sounding ones kept a look out so we wouldn’t hurt ourselves in out game. It was actually the first time I felt happy since the seizure. 

After a while, the cold of the cavern started to bother me and I hadn’t gotten inside the black castle yet either. The mists firmly told me to stay out of there but they weren’t sure themselves why. It was probably Hades’ grumpy mood which can move mountains. In fact, I started to notice how little the mist voices knew about where they were and why they were there. They could each tell me horrible or sad stories about what happened before they got to the cave but why they wanted to be there or why they felt safe there was a mystery to all of them. Most just followed the rest to the gates but a lot of them were scared of the three headed dog sleeping near the entrance to what they described as a black and emerald marbled city. 

It was around the time I decided I should better go home and maybe come back tomorrow to explore the castle when mist voices started to shriek in terror. I felt breezes pass me by and the air reeked of fear as the voices passed me and went further and further. Some paused to tell me to run or to get back to the boat but I couldn’t move. I didn’t want to trip over anything, I hadn’t ran ever since I stopped being able to see. I was afraid I run into something. So I just stood there, not sure if I felt afraid or safe. Until a chilling voice spoke. 

“You’re not dead.” 

* * *

 

To make a long story short, it was none other than the great Hades himself who came out of his hidy-hole castle to check out the commotion on the shore of the River Styx and why the stream of ghosts had slowly thinned until it appeared they all stayed outside the gates of Erebos. I caused traffic in the Underworld when I was eight, is what I’m saying. Yes, I do take pride to that. 

Hades and I talked for a while (aka, he asked questioned, I answered them), I told him how I’d gotten wherever the hell we were, he was so kind to explain I had found myself in the Underworld and not so kindly told me I wasn’t supposed to be here. I kind of stopped listening after hearing I was in the Underworld. Like, the actual Greek, Disney’s Hercules, with Cerberus and soul-water Underworld. I was more excited than scared but didn’t interrupt the Lord of the Dead in his speech about how the living should not cross the dead and blahblahblah as if he was lecturing a child… Which he was. When I look back at it now, I’m just glad he didn’t kill me right then and there. I actually still don’t know why he didn’t kill me back then. I suspect it was either because a blind child had accidentally found his way into an equivalent of hell or because he knew something about me was connected to his domain. 

Either way, after he lectured me, he told me to go back the way I came and not to come back, and I begrudgingly obliged. As strange as it may sound, it felt like I was being thrown out of my own home, even though it was my first time there. I was grumpy and sad when I finally came home, my mother passed out on the couch and surrounded by empty beer bottles (I knew because I fell over some). The static of the tv was annoying but not annoying enough for me to go turn it off. I also left for my room without covering my mother in a blanket. That’s how moody I was. That’s how moody leaving the Underworld made me feel. 

* * *

 

Even back then a good lecture from the Lord of the Dead himself didn’t stop me from going back down to his domain. 

Not even 24 hours later, I found myself back at the old ferryboat without even realizing it at first. It was only because the always present sounds of New York had disappeared and ghosts started to call me over to come play with them that I knew I was back. How the hell did I get there? I didn’t even pass Central Park that day, I was just getting groceries in a tiny shop one street away from my mom’s apartment.

The first time it happened, I turned around and walked back the way I had come from. I wasn’t exactly keen on having the wrath of Hades upon me. I was eight, not stupid. 

Unfortunately (or fortunately, depends on your perspective), I found myself back at the river Styx the next day on my way home from my therapy talk – that’s a thing you have to do after an accident that leaves you blind, apparently. This time, I didn’t go back home. Screw Hades’ wrath, this place wanted me to be there, and frankly, so did the ghosts who lived there. I went back regularly for weeks, either subconsciously or on purpose. Hades never came out to smite me or something. I liked to think I had beaten him and he had no idea I was in his kingdom. Off course he knew. 

It was in those weeks I explored Erebos more, though I never went to the place of judgement or inside the black castle. Mist people guided me to the Fields of Asphodel, near the gates to the Fields of Punishment and I remember Patroclus actually managing to get me inside Elysium. I became familiar with the ghosts that hadn’t faded away yet and some ghosts I had learned about in history when I still went to regular school. Like I said, they were all very nice. A lot of them were shocked to hear I couldn’t attend school anymore because my mother was supposed to home school me. They immediately offered to tutor me their specialties. Albert Einstein got me back into math again, I learned about the classic English plays by Shakespeare himself, actual Roman citizens told me about how life was back then and I actually managed to convince Achilles to teach me how to use a weapon. He wasn’t very keen on the idea of teaching a blind kid how to hold a sword but with some help from Patroclus, who became my nanny and my best friend very quickly, we swayed him with the argument that I need some way to defend myself. Blind people can be easy targets to get mugged back in good old New York. 

Those lessons are, by the way, the best memories I have up until now. My other senses developed to an extreme during those days. My hearing became very sensitive; I learned how to orientate myself by listening to my surroundings and how to open up my ‘sixth sense’. You know that feeling you get when someone’s standing behind you and you can almost feel them? That’s what we called my sixth sense. I had a lot of trouble being able to tell what would come towards me, what kind of attack Achilles would use on my but after a year, I actually managed to block some of them. 

Life up on the surface started to fade as I began to spend more and more time underground, but I always returned back home in the evening. Life was stable there. I continued going to therapy and learn how to read braille, mom kept her job despite the drinking and I kept taking care of her whenever I could. I wasn’t moody anymore. I took care of the house as well whenever I was home; groceries, cleaning, laundry,… All of which I mostly did in the morning before heading off to either a doctor or therapist and then finding myself back down before going back home. My doctors were very impressed with my progress, though I never told them about my dead tutors. Very soon, reading braille and finding my way around by touch and sound became second nature instead of something I had to put all my concentration into. By the time I was eleven and allowed to go to middle school instead of being home schooled, I was completely comfortable with being blind. Life had a routine. Life still has a routine. 

But what’s life without a tiny bump of excitement here and there? A few weeks before I was to turn twelve, I was playing soccer with a skull (I asked) with some mist kids my age when they all started running away from where I knew the gates to Erebos were. It was like I was eight again and it was my first time on the bank of the Styx. I knew it was Hades, finally coming to tell me to leave or to die, but I didn’t move. (And I was definitely not shitting my pants, shut up.) 

All he said was: “I grant you official permission to enter and leave the Underworld whenever you please. When you’re ready, find me in my palace.” 

And with that, I heard his footsteps go back inside the black town. 

It wouldn’t be until I was 15 that I understood what he meant by that. Not that I really cared back then. I wasn’t going to be slaughtered on the spot! Win!


	2. Episode 1 - The Daughter of Hades and the Son of Nyx

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I wrote the next chapter.  
> Yes, I really like writing this story so far (I'm half way through another chapter) and I feel myself slowly getting invested. I've written out the entire storyline, something I've never done before, and it gives me a sense of 'I can actually finish this'. I'm also using this story for NanoWrimo becaus I'm a dumb dumb.
> 
> Anyway, enjoy chapter.

There was no Ferryman.

Yeah, kind of should’ve noticed there was an important part of Hades’ business missing. Although I did notice, I just never paid attention to it. Lots of ghosts left comments on how they were surprised it was Thanatos himself to come get them and bring them to the other side of the Styx or how it was Hermes, the god of travelers and thieves that brought them there. I never really questioned it. I thought that was how it was supposed to go down.

I only found out around 5 years after my discovery of the Underworld. Routine life was going down: wake up, check if mom left for work, check if groceries are needed, go to school, get generally ignored by classmates, after-school activities if there are any, Underworld time. Except when I arrived past the gates of Erebos, there was more commotion than usual around the Judgement Pavilion. I mean, sure, there’s always a huge crowd down there but instead of there being a line of frightened, fresh souls waiting to be judged, there were large groups of ghosts and spirits whispering to each other like the girls in my class. Seeing as I recognized the voice of Patroclus, I decided to join them and check it out.

“Pat!” I called out, running up to where his voice came from. “What’s going on? Did some celebrity die?”

 _“We are not too sure yet,”_ he said, soft and gentle as always but with a edge of concern barely detectible, _“but the judges seem nervous.”_

I didn’t point out that he, as a resident of Elysium, should also feel nervous for leaving his piece of sanctuary, probably, without permission. Since it sounded like he wasn’t the only ghost who left Elysium to see the judgement of this mystery person, and Hades had yet to show his face to the masses, I thought the topic better not be mentioned just yet. Instead I moved closer towards to pavilion to catch what was being said. Seeing as I got official permission of Hades to roam the Underworld, I didn’t fear any consequences. Yay, VIP privileges!

Besides, it was my first time actually coming near the Pavilion of Judgement, so I was rather curious as to how this whole judging thing went down.

“ _Gentlemen, it seems like we can already scrap the Fields of Punishment for this young lady. I think we all agree there is no ounce of evil in her actions,”_ I heard the voice of William Shakespeare say, one of my favorite Underworld teachers. I raised an eyebrow at this, though. Since when did Shakespeare become a Judge of the Dead?

 _“Quite impressive, isn’t it?”_ Pat whispered next to me, making me jump a little. I hadn’t heard him following me to the building. _“It must be an honor to be chosen as a Judge,”_ he said with a sense of awe in his tone. I’ve always had a suspicion Pat was a big Shakespeare fan ever since I dragged him with me to ask William to teach me more complicated English.

“How does that work anyway?” I asked.

_“I’m not sure, Dylan. All I know is that Lord Hades choses them and they all have to be sons of Zeus.”_

“Only sons?” I grimaced, “Greeks will be Greeks I guess- Wait, Shakespeare is a son of Zeus?” I yell-whispered in Pat’s direction. He didn’t answer, but he was probably grinning at my reaction. “I would’ve taken him for… I dunno, a son of Apollo, maybe!”

_“Shh!”_

I shut my mouth, making a mental note to ask the famous play-writer during our next lesson, and got back to listening to mystery ghost’s judgement.

 _“Well, I do believe it’s obvious this girl has the right to reside in Elysium, no?”_ An unfamiliar voice argued. _“I mean, she’s hardly a neutral soul and I think dying for the cause of saving your friends proves that!”_

The other two Judges hummed in agreement before one of them, not Shakespeare, spoke up.

 _“But what about her parentage? Shouldn’t Lord Hades have a say in her stay as well?”_ He asked _. “Can we restrict a child of Hades to only Elysium and not her father’s castle as well? Maybe she can be allowed to reside in the castle if the Lord deems it appropriate.”_

 _“I think Lady Persephone might disagree,”_ Shakespeare said.

 _“Yes, and Lord Hades hasn’t shown up to the Pavilion so we must assume the palace is off-limits until proven otherwise,”_ the third Judge said. I was holding in my breath and none of the other ghosts were making a single noise anymore. All of us wanted to hear about the judgement of Hades’ daughter.

 _“Very well,”_ Judge number two said, _“Then it is decided. Bianca Di Angelo, your verdict is the Valley of Elysium. Do you accept this verdict?”_

 _“Wait,”_ a small female voice replied, _“isn’t there the option of… Rebirth?”_

A silence seemed to spread over the entirety of Erebos. Bianca sounded so scared, so tiny in the huge space of the pavilion, it must’ve taken all her courage to even speak up. Eventually, Shakespeare broke the silence.

_“That is correct. Do you wish to be reborn?”_

Again there was silence. I presumed Bianca was either pissing her pants or thinking it over. Then she spoke once more:

_“Yes. I would like to be reborn.”_

This time, any hint of fear was gone and the daughter of Hades sounded very sure of her decision.

 _“So be it,”_ Judge number three said, _“You will stay in Elysium for the next three years before you will drink of the river Lethe and you will start a new life.”_

Misty murmurs broke out outside the pavilion. The ghosts started talking amongst each other about this new development.

 _“We must inform you,”_ Shakespeare said, _“that if you manage to be chosen for Elysium and choose Rebirth three times in a row, you are allowed to reside on the Isles of the Blest, where only true heroes can go.”_

 _“Thank you,”_ Bianca’s mini voice had made it’s come-back. The gossip ghosts were slowly leaving the area of the pavilion, bored now that the interesting part was over. I felt cold air on my shoulder; probably Pat who put his misty hand on my shoulder.

 _“We should go before we get in trouble.”_ Oh _now_ he was worried about trouble? _“This way, to your left.”_

I followed Pat’s voice to the banks of the Styx as we walked in the direction of the gates of Elysium, talking about other new arrivals and what old ones have been up to.

 _“The new younger souls are quite the curious types,”_ Pat spoke casually, _“They’ve been wondering where the spirits of animals go to.”_

“That’s actually something I’ve been wondering as well! Where do animals go when they die? If they go anywhere to begin with.”

_“I am not sure, myself. I don’t remember any stories about the afterlife of animals but I have heard souls talking about other religions. Maybe that’s what the animals follow.”_

“I wouldn’t be surprised if animals went to some kind of heaven according to Native American believes. They’re pretty into the whole ‘everything has a spirit’ traditions. It’d make sense.”

_“Yes…”_

I heard Pat pause in his step so I stopped too, moving my head around trying to catch a sound of what made him stop.

 _“There are so many of them…”_ he murmured.

“What? Where?” Pat chuckled but he sounded rather sad.

 _“The souls on the other side of the Styx,”_ he said, _“I know the gods are doing their best to get them all across but it is not enough.”_

I nodded. Ever since my first time down, lost souls have been crowding up the other side of the river, trying to get across but too frightened to swim in the water. I’ve tried taking some of them across with the ferryboat I use to get across myself but it seems like they can’t actually enter it.

“Maybe it’s time for Hades to start investing in a bridge?” I offered, pretty sure it wasn’t any help whatsoever but not really willing to keep the mood down (despite our location).

 _“Heh,”_ Pat’s chuckle sounded less sad this time, _“That is one way to solve the problem. Unfortunately, that is not how it works.”_

“Ah yes, because two gods having to do it instead is so much better.” I was pretty sure Hermes and Thanatos liked to spend their free and non-free time elsewhere.

 _“It used to be different, before your time,”_ Pat said. I said nothing, urging him to continue. _“There used to be the demon, Charon, who ferried the souls who could pay to the other side.”_

My heart skipped a beat when I heard the name Charon, but I could swear I had never heard that name before. My palms started to sweat around my walking stick and my head started pounding as if someone was playing drums with my skull, but I didn’t know why.

“Charon?”

_“Yes, have you not heard from him before?”_

“Finding books about Greek Mythology in braille is harder than you’d think,” I muttered, massaging the back of my head, hoping that would maybe soften the pounding, “Why have I never heard of this demon before?”

_“I am not sure, Dylan. All I know is that one day souls stopped crossing over via ferry and Charon was never heard from again.  Thanatos and Hermes took over his job but it must be straining on them since they have their own deity duties to take care of.”_

“Wait, but then what happened? He just… vanished?”

_“Without a trace.”_

The pounding in my head became worse. I rubbed the hurting spot harder and moved from foot to foot nervously.

“But then those souls… What happens with them?”

Pat sighed. _“They have to wait until someone brings them here or they can return to the mortal world, but I’m not sure what that will do to their sanity.”_

I didn’t answer. I knew well enough what the mortal world did to the sanity of ghosts, if they had any left to begin with. It wouldn’t be the first time I came across a lost soul who had been looking for an entrance to _some_ afterlife for decades.

I moved my hands from rubbing my head to rubbing my eyes.

 _“Dylan, are you feeling well? Did you bring your medicine_?” Pat asked concerned.

“I’m fine, I won’t need them,” I lower my hand and grip my walking stick a little tighter, “they’re just stinging a little, they do that all the time.”

Pat didn’t answer straight away but eventually he hummed in agreement.

 _“Alright, I believe you,”_ he said as I felt a cold sensation up my arm, which I knew from experience meant Pat as touching my arm, urging me to continue walking. He started talking about something else – Achilles probably – but I was focused on the pounding that had reduced to a light throbbing in the back of my skull, which happened to be the exact same spot that had hurt like someone had stabbed me there, 5 years ago, before my vision had turned black for good.

 

* * *

 

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how I learned about Charon, the ferryman. After that day, I made it my mission to find more about the demon that had mysteriously disappeared not long before I started going to the Underworld. I mean, I’m not stupid. The topic comes up and suddenly my brain feels like it’s being stabbed with a thousand tiny needles. Coincidence? I think not!

There wasn’t a lot to find out though. New souls had never met Charon and old souls could only tell me so many things: he wore an old cloak, he looked like a skeleton with skin and eyeballs, he barely spoke, only asked for one drachma or he wouldn’t let you in his boat, which he pulled forward like a gondola in Venice. Ghosts never really saw him up close after they were dropped off at the gates of Erebos, Charon had no business on land (except for maybe the occasional coffee with Hades, death gods need their breaks too).

In New York, there was even less to find since books in braille are pretty hard to find, even with the help of teachers (who, and I quote, respect my willpower to keep reading even though I technically can’t and furthering my knowledge despite my massive disability). Internet was always an option but I didn’t have a laptop at home and the ones in school still didn’t have a reading-program installed – the ones that read out to me what’s on the screen. I’m lucky enough I have a phone that reads out my texts with the push of a button but since it kind of malfunctions the moment I step into the Underworld, I rarely have it with me outside of home. It’s mostly used so my mom can tell me what she’d like for dinner, if she’s having any in the first place.

The only info I found at school was thanks to a classmate that saw me walking around aimlessly in the school library. There are braille encyclopedias there… somewhere… She asked if I was looking for anything specific so I told her I was doing a paper on Greek Myths. She managed to look up Charon on the internet and found out he’s a son of Nyx and the brother of a million other deities, spirits and demons. That’s not a lot to go on, but it’s something.

However, the question why and/or how he disappeared remained unanswered.

I started debating with myself whether asking Thanatos or maybe even Hades what they knew about Charon, while on my way to Achilles and Pat in Elysium, when I asked myself: Why do I care?

I was willing to see the god of death and the god of the dead to ask about a demon I had no relation to. Why? Because I was worried about the souls who had to wait until they can cross over? Because I knew what would happen to them if they decided the wait wasn’t worth it and they’d either jump in the Styx or go back to the mortal world? Because I felt bad that two gods had to slightly overwork?

Why did I care so much? Why did I want to put so much effort in the disappearance of the ferryman, the least appreciated factor in the system that is the Underworld?

Before I could think of an answer, I heard a familiar mist voice behind me:

 _“You’re the one everybody talks about, right?”_ I turned to face the voice that had spoken (or at least I tried to, it’s always a guessing game with me). _“The one who’s not dead?”_

“The one and only,” I smiled and gave a small, friendly wave. I recognized the voice as the one of Bianca Di Angelo, if I wasn’t mistaken. “How is Elysium treating you?”

 _“Oh,”_ Bianca said, as if surprised I’d even ask her, _“it... It’s amazing here. I never imagined this place would be so sunny and pleasant. I’m very happy,”_ she said, and I believed her. She sounded happy, or at least content.

“Not too lonely, I hope?” I asked. It wouldn’t be the first time a young soul, who was taken way too early in their life, had no one to take comfort in in the Underworld since all their relatives would still be alive. And asking ‘heyo, do you have dead family down here’ seemed a little too rude, even for me.

 _“No, everyone is very friendly and I got to be reunited with my mother,”_ she said. I wasn’t sure if I heard a hint of sadness there or if that was what she normally sounded like.

“Really? That’s great! Are you staying with her?”

 _“Yes, until I get to be reborn,”_ this time I swear I could hear excitement in her voice.

“Oh that’s right, you’re going for rebirth!” I leaned on my walking stick, standing a little bit more comfortably but still trying to face the direction where I guessed Bianca was standing. I’ve been told by multiple teachers and classmates that they feel weird and like I’m not listening if I don’t face them properly while they’re talking, it’s like I’m staring off into the distance. “Can I ask why? If there is a reason, anyway.”

 _“Just…”_ she paused, seeming not so keen to tell a complete stranger. Her reason must be more complex than I thought. Or maybe it might have something to do with her parentage.

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

 _“Okay,”_ she said and changed the topic _, “But you’re not dead, then why are you here?”_

Now it was my turn to pause and think. “I’m not sure actually. I mean, I’ve been coming here for a few years now. It’s like a second home to me. But there’s no specific reason why I come down here on a regular basis… Or why I haven’t been thrown out yet.”

Bianca seemed intrigued. _“That’s okay? No one is bothered by that?”_

“Nope! And if they are, they can talk it out with Hades. But until now, it’s only Angelos who seems to be slightly annoyed at my presence, not sure why,” which was true. About a year after my first time down, a woman had approached me when I was sneaking around the Fields of Punishment to ask what my business there was. After I told her I had Hades’ permission, she quickly backed off though.

 _“And Hades is okay with it as well?”_ Bianca asked carefully. Her father must still be a touchy subject. Had he not come to her yet?

“He gave me permission to come and go as much as I want, so I’m taking he doesn’t have a problem with it. I might have felt it if he was.”

 _“You’ve met him then? Hades, I mean?”_ she asked uncertain.

“Oh yeah, loads of times,” I boasted, “Have you seen the Disney movie, Hercules?” I didn’t see her shake her head, “Total lie. Real Hades is in no way as sassy or outgoing as the one in movies. Nor is he entirely evil. I think he’s actually a giant introvert but he’d be a great lawyer. Like, he’s only evil when it’s justified, you know?”

_“You think so?”_

“Yeah,” and then I wondered if I should say what I wanted to say, and then I did. “I… wouldn’t worry too much about him not coming to you yet.” Bianca didn’t answer, so I continued, ignoring the tension in the air. “I mean, it took him months before he finally came to me to tell me he was okay with me being in his domain. He’s probably got lots of stuff around his head, having to take care of every single dead person _ever_. And I think he’s socially awkward, he’s probably just scared of what you might think of him; he’s a nerd like that.”

Bianca had to giggle at that, but the tension was still there.

_“My mother sometimes talks about him. She believes it’s Lady Persephone preventing him from seeing us.”_

“It might be,” I nodded, “I haven’t met her yet so I can’t be too sure, but it’s an option to keep in mind.”

 _“Where do you live, up there?”_ She asked, suddenly changing the subject again.

“Oh, err, New York. Why?”

 _“I have a little brother,”_ she said, talking faster, _“I think he’s still on Long Island. I’m not sure how he’s taking… the news, but he must be upset. I was the only person he had left.”_

I already knew what she was going to ask me before she did.

_“Can you check on him? Please, to make sure the people I left him with are taking care of him.”_

I’d say it wouldn’t be the first time that a soul asked me to check on a family member of theirs but it was. No one had ever asked me about checking on their family or friends. I wasn’t sure what to answer. I wasn’t even sure if I was allowed to do this. It felt like I was putting myself in something I wasn’t supposed to touch. Call it fear for a butterfly effect, if I check this poor soul’s brother, I might tip the balance of nature so to speak.

Bianca must’ve seen I was hesitating.

 _“I want to redo my life,”_ she said, _“Being a child of Hades has made my life a bumpy road. For my brother as well. I want to try again and lead a normal life. That’s why I choose Rebirth. Nico is also a child of Hades, I’m scared he won’t ever be happy.”_

It surprised me and made me feel like I needed to help her and her brother even more. But I still wasn’t sure.

 _“You know the Underworld better than any other mortal out there. You know it better than any_ _demi-god,”_ she said, now desperate. I felt cold around my hand. She was probably trying to hold it. _“Please, help him understand. He’s so uncertain of himself. Or at least make sure he’s not alone.”_

I closed my eyes. They were stinging again. I shook my head to make the pain go away. What do I really know about the Underworld? How to get in and out by chance? Finding my way around by asking directions? I was just as useless even in territory I was familiar with! But I didn’t want to disappoint Bianca, who seems to feel so strongly for her little brother, who was now alone in the world.

Gods damn it.

 _“I can check if he’s not alone and how he’s taking it,”_ I said after being silent for a long while, _“I can’t really promise anything else, but I can try.”_

Suddenly, the air around me turned icy cold and for a second I thought ‘there comes Hades, ready to lecture me… again!’ But this was a different sensation. There was no fear, but happiness instead. Bianca was hugging me. Man, how long has it been since I’ve last been hugged? By the dead or the living!

I wanted to hug her back but that’s kind of the negative part about having ghosts as friends and being blind: you can’t see them AND you can’t touch them! It doesn’t help either that all souls smell the same: dead.

 _“Thank you,”_ she whispered. Was she crying too? _“Thank you so much.”_ The cold air left but stayed close. _“I’m sorry. I don’t even know your name.”_

Oh, yeah, stupid.

“It’s Dylan,” I told her, “Dylan Thompson.”

 


	3. Episode 2 - Shadow Traveler

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I literally quote almost 2 pages of the Battle Of the Labyrinth. Or the dialogue at least.  
> Forgive me for the way I portray Bianca :'|

I really should’ve asked for better directions.

Not that it would really matter since Bianca didn’t know the exact location of this Camp Half-Blood either. All she knew was that it was located on Long Island, in a valley filled with Greek-like buildings and cabins. There’s even an amphitheater and an arena, you can’t miss them! And I probably wouldn’t have if I had eyes that worked.

Finding little brother Nico was going to be harder than expected. I mean, even _more_ harder.

Maybe I should’ve titled this episode Finding Nico, as a reference to Finding Nemo. Now that was a good movie.

Back to the point, I went around looking for ghosts who might’ve sensed a child of Hades nearby. If souls in the Underworld got restless from Bianca’s presence, they must be going bonkers when a kid with Hades’ DNA walked across the street on the surface! But no luck there either. Even some stronger ghosts, who could spread their energy faster and further than others, couldn’t find a speck of Underworld influence anywhere in the state. IN THE STATE.

After I heard that, I was very much tempted to give up. Then when I told Bianca, she sounded as if I had just murdered her puppy right in front of her. So I kept an eye out, not actively searching anymore but not dismissing the mission just yet.

Besides, my thoughts were still pre-occupied by the mystery that is Charon. It was already exam season and I was still nowhere near an explanation of his disappearance. I had debated multiple times to just ask Hades why one of his employees just stopped showing up to work, but since Bianca entered Elysium, he showed his face even less than usual. It was probably best to leave him to his moping.

I put both missions on hold for like a month, and only went down to the Underworld to study with the smart ghosties, since finals were glaring upon me with a vengeance. I figured the right company would put me in the right mood as well as help me out with the subjects I didn’t quite understand.

I was on my way from the ferryboat to the gates of Elysium when I felt it for the first time: moving shadows.

I don’t know how I sensed someone appearing and disappearing, or how I even knew there were shadows in the first place. A presence was there, and then it wasn’t. The shadows moved like the tentacles of an octopus and then they stilled again and I couldn’t sense them anymore.

At first, I just thought I had imagined it, but then it happened again, right where I knew the walls of Erebos were. I could briefly sense the shadows, cast by the green lights of inside Erebos on the walls, move as if the molecules were traveling around. Then they turned into a presence again before it left the same way it had come. And this time, I was certain it wasn’t my imagination.

Slowly, I crouched a bit lower and made my way towards the walls surrounding Hades’ domain, as if I could startle the shadows if I was too loud or made sudden movements. Then I could feel the shadows morph again and out came the presence… and then it was gone again.

What the fuck was going on?

Never before had I felt these kinds of sensations, not even when I could predict when and where a person would die if the end was near enough. This was nothing like an old lady passing by, and suddenly I’d know tonight would be her last dinner. No, this felt more like… Like the shadows were calling out to me, trying to tell me that they’re moving now and I should pay attention to them.

I stood there for a while longer, waiting for the presence to come back (so I could maybe tackle it) but it didn’t come back. But my curiosity was still peaked. I stretched out my hands where I remembered the sensation of the shadows moving until I eventually touched the sand on the ground. Nothing really happened when I touched the sand – I’ve fallen on it multiple times for not noticing a rock on the ground in time – but when I moved my finger a little, the shadows moved with me, as if it was a blanket instead of physics I was playing with.  Thinking like that though, I wondered…

I closed my hands, as if gripping the shadow blanket and stood up, lifting my hands with me. The shadows came up with me but dissolved like mist after a few short seconds of staying solid. As I crouched down again to give it another try, I grinned and tried to keep down giggles, elated when it did it again. I started moving around, gripping shadows and throwing them around. If I concentrated, it was like I could almost see them, flying up with the flick of my hand and forming beautiful shapes in the air, like colorless fireworks. Passing souls might’ve looked at me in confusion but I didn’t care. I could make shadows move. I could make shadows move!

* * *

 

I practiced and experimented a lot since then. Whenever I was alone, I sought out the shadows in my tiny bedroom, setting up a lamp that I stopped using long ago on one side on the room and putting books and one of my mother’s vases in the middle, so they created a shadow play against my wall on the other side. The first time I played with shadows, I couldn’t sense them when they were standing still. In my bedroom, where the light source was strong and made the edges of the shadow sharp, it felt as clear as if it was a spate layer against the wall, radiating towards me. I didn’t have to touch it to know it was there.

Carefully putting my finger at the edge of the shadow of the vase, I moved upwards, making the shadow stretch. It was like playing with clay; I could shape the shadow however I wanted and then make it go back to its original shape with the flick of my wrist. After a few tries, I didn’t even need to touch the shadow anymore.

Standing in front of the lamp, I made my shadow look like a giraffe, a bird, a tiger, a giant and an imp, I made myself float in the air and I made myself dissolve into a thousand pieces. I pulled at my shape against the wall but it dissolved almost immediately. I wondered if I practiced hard enough, would I be able to make solid shaped shadows walk around in thin air.

On my way to school, when the sun wasn’t completely up yet, I made other people’s shadow walk slower or faster than them, making the shadow’s owner look around in confusion. I turned the shadow of a passing bird turn into that of a bat, surprising a young lady on her way to work.

During class, I’d distract myself with the shadow of my textbook, turning it into a thin thread and playing with it around my fingers. I was happy. I felt as if I could see again for a little bit, the shadows in every space creating a feel for the area. I became more aware of stairs and changes in floor levels and didn’t trip over random stuff on the ground anymore. I never really asked myself how I had gotten these powers, how I was able to do these things; I was much too happy with this development to really care.

In the Underworld, I kept the shadow manipulating to a minimum. I don’t really know why. Maybe I was afraid Hades might think I was manipulating his domain, shadows are his in the area of his expertise after all. I did briefly show Pat and he praised me like I hoped he would, though scolding me to not use it too much. With great power comes great responsibility, he said, and I laughed because did my dead Ancient Greek best friend just quote Spider-man to me? I did take his words into account, I always did with Pat.

On my way back home that day, I sensed the same presence from last time fade in and back out into the shadows. It was easier to know where he was this time but I didn’t pursue him. Instead I silently thanked him for helping me find those new tricks. And then I wondered… could I appear and disappear into shadows as well?

* * *

 

I sure could!

It did take me all of finals week and another month to get the hang of it but eventually, it took me less than five minutes to get groceries. I didn’t do it much though, out of fear I might end up somewhere completely unfamiliar. It became easier when I realized that shadow travel felt the same as when I would enter and leave the Underworld. For all I knew, I had shadow travelled every day from wherever to the ferryboat at the edge of the Styx all along!

With this new development as well as the summer holiday being in full swing, I was less on the surface and more in the Underworld where the glaring heat of the sun couldn’t reach me. Hey, I rather walk around in a freezing environment with a nice warm sweater, than sit in unavoidable heat and dryness without a way to get cooler. Off course, I could always stuff ice cubes down my pants (no) or go swimming but I’ve noticed that I was absolutely useless in water. Who knew you needed eyes to swim, right?

So I washed up my face in the bathroom – the mirror would probably show a scrawny kid with brown uncombed hair and unfocused eyes, in a hoody that he practically swam in - filled my backpack with food – as to avoid getting hungry downstairs and feeling tempted to eat Underworld food; I did as much mythology research as was possible, thank you very much – checked on my mother who had a few days off from work, put a blanket over her sleeping body and switched the tv off before entering the bathroom and stepping into a shadow.

Something went wrong.

The shadows got out of my control, making me lose my balance and crash into a wall instead of next to my boat. Disoriented and rubbing my chest that had taken the worst of my impact against the wall, I lifted myself up with my elbows, searching around for my walking stick attached to my backpack. I couldn’t find it. It must’ve fallen off when I tripped. And I thought I was done tripping over things. Now I was bruised AND I had no idea where I was. I presumed a passage in the Underworld since I was aiming for that place anyway, and my surroundings felt claustrophobic and dark. There were no sounds other than the ones I made echoing off the walls. Maybe a cave chamber?

Wherever I had found myself, I wasn’t alone though. Not far from me, another person was groaning on the ground, but they regained their senses faster than I did. The voice of a boy gasped and I heard him shuffling backwards and standing up. Then I heard a noise: one I recognized from Achilles’ lessons. The boy was unsheathing a fucking sword!

I shuffled back as well, bumping against another wall and putting my hands up.

“Easy, easy!” I said.

“How the hell did you do that?” He asked. Man, did he sound angry, but he also seemed very much on edge. I was pretty sure he was pointing his sword in my direction.

“Do what?” I asked carefully.

“That! Bump into me when I was shadow traveling! How did you intercept me?”

“Oh…” I mumbled, “I thought you were a wall…” The boy didn’t make a sound, but now I knew he could shadow travel too, which meant… “Are you the one who’s been traveling through shadows?”

“I could ask you the same thing.”

“Well… You did it first,” I retaliated.

“Who are you? What are you?” He moved closer, sword probably still in his hand. I decided it was probably best to answer his questions as honestly as possible since I had no way to defend myself. My walking stick was somewhere on the ground and the sword I used for training with Achilles.

“I’m Dylan Thompson. I’m… a high schooler… starting next month?”

“No, I mean, what are you? A god? A demi-god? Who are your parents?”

“Uhm, my mom is Isabelle Thompson. Don’t know who my dad is, he left before I was born.”

“So… You’re a demigod then?” The boy seemed to relax a little bit with this, but not completely.

“I mean… I don’t think so. Am I?” Am I? I had never thought of it before but… Am I?

“I don’t know, that’s why I’m asking you.”

“Well, I’m sorry I don’t have my entire family tree and a print of my DNA with me. I’ll remember it next time I decide to bump into someone while shadow traveling.”

He didn’t answer that, but he exhaled slowly and shuffled around a little more. I stood up, pretty sure the boy had lowered his weapon, and leant against the wall opposite from where the kid was stepping around.

“I didn’t know who my father is until a few months ago. I shouldn’t be surprised you haven’t been claimed yet,” He said.

“You’re a demigod too, right? Who’s your father?”

He stopped walking. “Isn’t it obvious?”

I didn’t answer.

“I can travel through shadows and I look like this. How do you not know who my father is?” He asked, now exasperated and annoyed.

“Well, I can shadow travel too and I can’t see what you look like for that matter,” I waved my hand in front of my eyes. He didn’t answer again, so I took it he got the message. “Wait, does that mean we’re siblings?”

“I don’t want any more siblings,” he grumbled.

“Harsh.” I mean, who wouldn’t want me as their brother? Rude. After a moment of silence, I asked: “Can I at least know your name? Since you know mine, it’s only fair.”

He didn’t speak at first, but eventually he gave in: “It’s Nico. Nico Di Angelo.”

“Wait, you’re Nico?”

“Yes? You’ve heard of me?”

Oh dear, oh boy, oh gods, oh fuck. I had finally found Bianca’s not-so-baby brother. On accident! Now that I knew a bit more about the kid’s history and his seemingly annoyance of the idea of siblings, I figured he wasn’t over Bianca’s passing just yet. Mentioning her would be a bad idea.

“Bits and pieces. Ghosts gossip a lot. But that means you’re a kid from Hades, right?”

“And you too, probably. Only children and creatures from the Underworld can travel through shadows and talk to ghosts for gossip,” he snapped, as if the idea of the Underworld repulsed him. He did have a point too, actually.

“You know what, it would explain quite a few things…” Communicating with the dead from since I was very young, finding the Underworld even without trying, knowing when and where a person would die, having control over shadows, never knowing who my father was,… It all made sense. But…  “But I’ve gone so long without a father, I’m not really willing to jump in Hades’ court to give him a hug or something.”

“No, but you should care that you’re a demigod. Haven’t you been chased by monsters enough in your life?” Have I what?

“The only monsters I’ve heard of are bullies, to be honest, and they’ve left me alone so far.”

“What?”

“Well, yeah, you really have to be an asshole if you beat up the blind kid, you know.”

“No, I mean, you’ve never been attacked by monsters before?” Nico sounded genuinely surprised at this. At least he didn’t seem angry anymore.

“… Does playing catch with Cerberus count?”

“That’s strange, especially for a child of Hades,” he muttered, mostly to himself.

“Is it?”

“Yeah. But it also means you might not be prepared for what’s out there. You should keep an eye out.”

“Sure,” I replied in a dry tone. Nico and I stayed quiet for a moment before bursting into giggles.

“I am sorry,” he said in between taking breaths.

“Don’t sweat, Di Angelo. It’s not the first time someone’s said that to me.”

We laughed for a little while longer, me doing most of the laughing, until we fell silent, neither having anything else to add to the conversation. Nico eventually spoke up:

“I need to leave now.”

“Alright, bump into ya next time!”

Nico snorted. “Yeah.” And then he was gone.

* * *

 

Lots of souls seem to be distracted lately. And I only knew that because Pat pointed it out for me.

I called it very very old shades that finally lost their sanity and should’ve faded away a long time ago. Pat scolded me for that but he didn’t deny that what I said was right. He described it as souls just walking around in the Fields of Asphodel, doing their thing and then suddenly they’d stop, look up and start having a conversation with… well, nothing. I didn’t really think it was anything concerning until it started happening every two days to ghosts in Elysium as well.

“If this keeps going for a few more weeks, I’m calling it an epidemic,” I told Bianca when she asked about it. I wasn’t lying when I said ghosts are massive gossips, the news of distracted souls spread like wildfire. But to be honest, what would you do to keep yourself interested for all eternity? Mozart taking a dump is grand news for a week.

 _“I’m sure it’s nothing to be worried about,”_ Bianca responded, _“I’m sure there’s an explanation for this.”_

“Like… a new kind of plague? Can ghosts turn into zombies?”

Bianca hummed at that. _“Maybe. They can inhabit dead bodies and make them walk around like zombies perhaps?”_

“Now why aren’t they making a movie about that…” I crossed my arms, only half joking about a possessed zombie movie thriller.

 _“Maybe it has something to do with what’s going on on the surface,”_ Bianca offered, _“The quest I died on seemed like only the beginning of something serious.”_

“You never told me you died on a quest?” I raised an eyebrow and faced her direction, sitting a little straighter on the low wall we were seated at. According to Pat, it had a view over a courtyard near Chilli’s and Pat’s residence, which was a typical Greece villa – with the most marble-est of marble, being best of the Greek has it’s perks in the afterlife.

 _“I guess I never did…”_ she sighed.

After a while I said: “My rule still stands, you know. You don’t have to talk about anything if you don’t want to. Thou has the right to remain silent.”

She chuckled at that but turned serious again right after. _“I guess it was kind of dumb,”_ she said, regret all over her voice, _“If I hadn’t taken the figurine in the first place… But all I could think of, from since we began the quest, is how I could possibly apologize to Nico after I left him behind to join the hunters.”_

“You left him to join the what now?”

 _“The hunters of Artemis,”_ she said, _“they’re a group of girls and women who swear loyalty to Artemis. You get to join her Hunt but you are not to fall in love with man ever.”_

“Oh hey, I didn’t know you are asexual.”

_“I’m what?”_

“Never mind,” I waved the subject away, “But then Nico couldn’t come with you, because he’s not a girl?”

 _“Yes,”_ she mumbled, _“I’d get to visit him, but he would have to stay in Camp Half-Blood without me.”_

“But… wasn’t he upset?”

_“Oh, very. But I didn’t care then. I didn’t want to constantly take care of my little brother anymore.”_

I mulled it over, before answering. I never had a sibling before. All I had was my mother and maybe Achilles and Pat as my stand-in fathers, I didn’t really have anyone to take care of me. I did know what it felt like to constantly having to worry about someone, but at least my mother knew her way to work and knew when to stop drinking before she got alcohol poisoning.

“I understand. Everyone needs some privacy, right?”

_“Right.”_

“Speaking of Nico,” I said, “I got to talk to him.”

 _“You did?”_ Bianca instantly perked up but not without sounding a little bit worried. _“How is he? Did he return to Camp Half-Blood?”_

“Errrr actually, I didn’t get to ask where he was staying and I didn’t mention you either,” I scratched the back of my neck, “I dunno, he seemed a little tense every time I started about siblings so I thought it be better like this.”

Bianca hummed. _“What did he say?”_

“Not much, to be honest. I talked more than he did.”

_“That sounds quite unlike him…”_

“I don’t blame him, you know. I mean, he seemed very much on edge, about your death, about being a kid of Hades. I think he might be a little uncomfortable with it. He seemed to think I’m a demigod too.”

_“Are you?”_

“I don’t know…”

 _“Maybe… ”_ she sighed, _“You should’ve seen his face when he found out we –“_

She stopped talking. I moved my head around; trying to catch a sign of what interrupted her.

“Bianca?”

 _“Percy,”_ she answered. Last time I checked, that was not my name. And then it was like I wasn’t sitting next to her anymore. We were no longer in Elysium, no longer in the Underworld. The air smelled of freshly cut grass and was cool on my skin, like a regular summer’s night. I could hear crickets in the distance. Were we in some kind of meadow?

 _“Hello, Percy,”_ Bianca spoke. I could almost hear the soft smile on her lips.

“Bianca,” a boy in front of use said in a tone thick with emotions. I guessed him to be around my age. “I’m so sorry.”

_“You have nothing to apologize for, Percy. I made my own choice. I don’t regret it.”_

“Bianca!” Another voice spoke up, the one I recognized as Nico’s. I heard him stumbling forward.

 _“Hello, Nico. You’ve got so tall,”_ Bianca said fondly but as if she was going to cry any minute now. All of this happened with me on the sidelines and as if I wasn’t even there. Could they even see me? I felt like I was intruding. I wanted to leave.

“Why didn’t you answer me sooner? I’ve been trying for months!”

_“I was hoping you’d give up.”_

“Give up?” Gods, my heart broke into a million pieces. “How can you say that? I’m trying to save you!”

_“You can’t, Nico. Don’t do this. Percy is right.”_

“No! He let you die! He’s not your friend.”

 _“You must listen to me,”_ she said, sounding more desperate than when she asked me to find Nico, _“Holding grudges is dangerous for a child of Hades. It is our fatal flaw. You have to forgive. You have to promise me this.”_

“I can’t. Never.”

 _“Percy has been worried about you, Nico. He can help. I let him see what you were up to, hoping he would find you.”_ Wow wow, put the timer on hold! She did what now? Did that mean she knew where Nico was all along? What the hell was going on?

“So it _was_ you,” the third party said, Percy I believe, “You sent those Iris-messages.”

“Why are you helping him and not me?” Nico demanded and I would’ve loved to know that too. “It’s not fair!”

 _“You are close to the truth now,”_ Bianca said, _“It’s not Percy you’re mad at, Nico. It’s me.”_

“No.”

_“You’re mad because I left you to become a Hunter of Artemis. You’re mad because I died and left you alone. I’m sorry for that, Nico. I truly am. But you must overcome the anger. And stop blaming Percy for my choices. It will be your doom.”_

“She’s right,” a fourth voice cut in, this time female. Who the hell are these people? “Kronos is rising, Nico. He’ll twist anyone he can to his cause.”

“I don’t care about Kronos,” Nico said, “I just want my sister back.”

And there went my broken heart again, just all over the floor.

 _“You can’t have that, Nico,”_ Bianca told him in a soothing voice. I doubted it worked.

“I’m the son of Hades. I can.

 _“Don’t try. If you love me, don’t –“_ she got cut off by what seemed like static. The air became thick with tension. If I didn’t want to leave before, I sure did now. But Bianca wasn’t done yet: _“Tartarus stirs. Your power draws the attention of Kronos. The dead must return to the Underworld. It is not safe for us to remain.”_

“Wait,” Nico called out, “Please –“

 _“Goodbye, Nico. I love you. Remember what I said.”_ And with a loud pop, we were back in the stuffiness of the Underworld. Bianca was breathing heavily next to me on the low wall, still full of emotions. I was having none of that.

“So,” I crossed my arms back, “care to explain what that was about?”


	4. Episode 3 - Withdrawal

Bianca didn’t technically lie; she just avoided telling the truth. So yes, she lied.

She was well aware of why the ghosts started talking to air. That’s what a ghost looks like when they’re summoned by a certain son of Hades, who was desperately looking for a way to talk to his sister one last time. That whole scene in the last episode? That was Bianca being summoned by this dude Percy, whom I’ve also never heard of (?), and I got dragged along to the party.

She also confessed she knew of Nico’s location and plans ever since he and I had that talk after we bumped into each other. He had stayed in the Underworld just long enough for Bianca to sense him and follow his tracks from then on. How he’d learned to use his powers with the help of Minos, ho he tried to summon her multiple times, how he basically lived on the streets for months,… Why didn’t she tell me? She was going to but then she got summoned and yeah.

There’s also a war happening with Kronos. Yeah, kinda dropped the bomb on that one, didn’t it? Bianca started talking, when I asked her, about this Great Prophecy and how one of Kronos’ minions had captured Artemis and that’s the quest she was on when she died. She also started explaining who Kronos was and how he wanted to destroy Olympus and bring chaos upon the world and how he was using bitter demigods to have revenge on their godly parents for ignoring them and so on and so forth. In short: shit was going down on the surface and it was not pretty.

Only one matter remained unanswered:

“Why didn’t you answer Nico the first time he called you?” It was as if I was talking about a stupid phone call between fighting relatives, which it basically was! A supernatural postmortem phone call.

 _“I thought he would give up eventually,”_ she said, back to her small voice from the first time I’d met her. I wasn’t surprised she sounded like that; I had basically been interrogating her. I should’ve been back on the surface hours ago.

“You realize that’s fucking stupid, right?”

_“Excuse me?”_

“He’s your brother. In mourning. He never got to say goodbye to you!”

_“The dead should stay dead. He shouldn’t have summoned any souls to begin with.”_

“He learned how to summon souls by Minos, too. Fucking Minos! I can’t even begin to tell how wrong that is!”

 _“Please, stop yelling,”_ she pleaded.

“I won’t stop yelling! This is so wrong! This should’ve never happened!”

 _“Why are you so upset about whether or not I want to talk to my brother? It’s not even your business!”_ Bianca yelled back.

“You made it my business when you asked me to find him and make sure he wasn’t too upset about you dying! Which, what a surprise, he was, and you did nothing to help him grieve, even though you could’ve!”

She didn’t answer that, but I could feel her glare. Kids of Hades have an evil-aura even after they died, imagine that.

I lowered my head, breathing in and out slowly, trying to calm down. I took a few steps back, relaxed my shoulders and grabbed my walking stick from my backpack.

“I’m going to go home now,” I said.

 _“Could you… Not come visit me for a while?”_ Bianca asked. And it hurt. It hurt to hear that, but I also understood. We were not on speaking terms and frankly, I didn’t really want to be around her either.

I curtly nodded and started making my way to the nearest shadow, be damned that others could see me shadow travel.

* * *

 

Now that I knew of Kronos and what he was planning, I suddenly became hyper-aware of the tension in the air, both in the Underworld and on the surface. Something was going to happen. It was only a matter of time before everything exploded and everyone knew it. And it was the most frustrating thing ever! It was like we were all waiting for a slap in the face that just did. Not. Happen. Until you wished someone would just slap you already and be done with it!

This went on for another week and a half after the Di Angelo drama, as I’d started to call it, and god damn it did I wish I was back in school already. With everybody being tense and ready for some shit to go down, no one felt like doing anything or acting like everything was dandy. I was bored both up- and downstairs. By week 2 post DA-drama, I was considering jumping into the Acheron, just because I could and hell, it’d be much more interesting than bingo-evening in the main pavilion of Elysium. Again.

And then it happened. The explosion.

It was first a light throbbing but I’d recognize that pain in any situation. As I grabbed the back of my head, I crouched down and focused on my breathing. I was not going to have a seizure. I was not ever going to have a seizure ever again. I was not going to lose another part of my brain! No way!

I considered calling out for help but why would anyone care? They’re ghosts; the remains of what was probably a more scarier death than a seizure.

I stood up on wobbly legs – the headache became worse – and made my way towards Elysium, knowing my way well enough to not need my walking stick. I panted as I trudged up the hill towards where Achilles and Patroclus lived. I needed familiar faces and I needed them NOW.

Then I lost all senses and all I could do was scream. The pain was unbearable; like a poisoned knife was being stabbed in the back of my neck and the rest of my brain was being tortured by tiny needles. I cried and yelled, hoping it would ease the pain. I dug my nails into my arms, I buried my forehead in the ground, I kicked and shook but nothing helped! I wasn’t aware of my surroundings; I didn’t care about my surroundings. All I wanted was the pain to just lessen a little bit, but instead it spread from my brain, to my face, to my back and to the entirety of my body.

I felt like it went on for ages, decades, but I must’ve passed out at some point because the next thing I felt was cold and gentle air resting on my forehead and the cloud-like sensation of what could only be an Elysium-mattress. Exhaustion took over me and I wanted to go back to unconsciousness – the less dreaming, the better – but the hand kept me focused on the present.

After a while, my hearing started to come back as I could hear Chilli’s voice sing softly from next to the bed I was lying on. He sounded hoarse, like he’d been doing it for hours.

Next came the pain. My limbs felt stiff and weak, like I’d been driven over by a truck. I was sure if I checked, I’d have bruises from the spasm I probably had to endure. At least my head didn’t feel like it was trying to eat itself.

As awareness started to course through my body, I started to feel like I could move again. I lifted my arm to touch the cold air above my forehead. This seemed to startle Achilles into action.

 _“Dylan, at last,”_ he sighed in relief, _“how are you feeling?”_

“Err… Bad,” I tried to say but it came out as if I’d swallowed a toad. My throat felt like it was ripped to pieces. Then again, I must’ve had iron lungs to scream as loud as I might have screamed. I tried again. “How long?”

 _“A day, maybe a little longer.”_ The cold air moved to my hairline, probably trying to get a strand away from my face. He sighed again and I felt like sighing with him. I wished I could cuddle up against him and never have to move again.

“Missed anything important?” I asked to lighten up the mood a bit. What gossip was Elysium into today, I wondered. Achilles swallowed, though, instead of flying into a story about Bach’s latest escapades. He didn’t answer immediately, but eventually:

 _“There was a battle,”_ he whispered, “ _In the demigod camp on Long Island. Daedalus, the creator of the famous labyrinth and a lot of young demigods died.”_

I… didn’t know what to say to that. I didn’t even know what to think of that.

It took a lot of effort and time to do it but eventually I sat up, dangled my legs off the bed and stood up. I wobbled a bit on the same spot, then started walking to where I knew the door was. Achilles called after me, but I ignored him. I wanted to go home.

Shadow traveling would take more effort than walking would do, so I fast-walked towards my ferryboat which was still waiting for me at the Styx. Before I got in, something stopped me. I sensed something on the other side of the river. Something was waiting there. Cautiously, I got in and sailed across.

On the other side of the Styx, were a group of new souls. I could sense their fear and uncertainty of what was to come next, but I didn’t budge from where I was sitting in my boat. Then one of them stepped forward and a misty voice of an adult man started talking.

 _“Ferryman?”_ He asked. I didn’t move a muscle. It would hurt if I did either way. _“Will you help us across for one drachma each?”_

I only blinked and waited for the other souls to speak up. None of them did. They seemed just as defeated as I felt.

“I can’t,” I groaned, my voice still broken, “The boat won’t let anyone else in.”

The soul in charge didn’t differ. _“Please, you must let us across. We’ve been through a lot. These kids have been through a lot. They deserve a fair judgement and the only way for that to happen is to get over the river."_

“I can’t help you.”

_“You can.”_

Could I?

After a while, I stood up, defeated again, and stretched out my arm, hand open, palm up, towards the souls who wanted to pay so desperately. The one in charge paid first and got in… without resistance. Unlike the many times I had tried ferrying ghosts across before, this time the boat let him get on, let him find a spot that looked comfortable and there he waited for the boat to move.

I turned my head towards the other ghosts – demigods – who had yet to do or say anything. I stretched out my hand again. Eventually, one of them moved and placed an ice cold drachma on my hand. The others followed suit until the beach was empty and the boat was full. I sat in the back and willed the ferry to move, as if it was just me inside. It did as commanded, and that was the first time I brought souls to Erebos.

* * *

 

I locked myself up in my room after that.

I only came out to use the bathroom, to wash up and to eat. When there was no more food, I shadow traveled to the shop and got back home within 3 minutes. After a few weeks, I stopped using shadow travel as well, avoiding everything related to the Underworld. Would I have to avoid myself too?

What had I gotten myself into? Why had I kept going to the Underworld for so long? Why did I still want to go back?

In all those years, I had forgotten what Erebos really was: a collecting ground for the dead.

Those people walking around there were no longer real, no longer relevant. Why had I invested myself so much in beings I wasn’t supposed to be able to talk to? Was it because I was a demigod? Was contact with the dead inevitable because of my supposed parentage? Was I ever going to lead a normal life again after all I’ve observed? After all those souls I’ve met? After all those years of avoiding the real living world and hiding in the shadows?

I curled up on my bed, my head under my pillow. I drowned out the noises of downtown New York, which were suddenly too real, too present, too… there. I drowned out the static of the tv down the hall, where my mother was probably sleeping again of in her own perfectly fine bed. My mother, who I hadn’t had a decent talk with for years now, seemed suddenly too real. She could end up down there, in the Fields of Asphodel if she kept going like this. She could end up there very soon if I didn’t start paying attention to her. She could be there right now for all I knew, but I was too scared to check.

Suddenly, I realized, I was afraid of death. It was no longer a comfort.

All those years in the Underworld had made me constantly aware of death and now I was afraid of it.

What was I supposed to do? What was I supposed to do?

* * *

 

I was grateful when school started again and I had something else to focus on than the lost souls roaming around the streets. Yes, you read that right, ladies and gentlemen, I was actually glad to be back in school, to return home with a backpack filled with homework, anything so I wouldn’t have to think about the Underworld, Bianca, Achilles and Patroclus, the teenagers I ferried across the Styx or every other soul that walked around down there. Anything so I could stop thinking about dead people and death and the afterlife and what kind of influence it has all gotten on me.

Yet, I was distracted constantly. I was beating myself up about it too. I was beating myself up about a lot of things: not paying attention in class, letting my thoughts consume me so easily, taking hours to finish homework that should’ve been done in less than half an hour but also for staying away from the Underworld, not letting Chilli and Pat know that I wasn’t planning on coming back any time soon, not telling them I was alright and hadn’t forgotten them. They were my friends after all, had taken care of me ever since I was eight, had taken better care of me than my parents.

Mom hadn’t changed much, but I tried to have conversations with her whenever she was home and awake. I asked about her day at work, I asked about what shows she was watching, I asked about what she wanted for dinner and if I should bring anything extra from the grocery shop. She might’ve been surprised, I wasn’t sure. It kinda sucks to not be able to see a person’s expressions. She did answer me though; first short sentences, one word per question and then later she started responding with more than one sentence. I must admit I at some point started hoping it would make my mother stop from getting drunk every evening but I knew I wouldn’t be able to influence that much. She would probably stay an alcoholic unless she looked for professional help. I kept telling myself it could’ve been much worse. At least she knew her limit. At least she didn’t hit me. At least she kept her job and made sure we could pay the bills.

Life was back into routine. I couldn’t exactly say I was happy but routine was important to me, so that kept me going.

And then we got a new classmate.

How did I know that? Not because the teacher introduced him – because I wasn’t paying attention that day – but because the girls were all over him. Days after hearing them whisper during lunch about the tall boy with the blond hair and ice blue eyes, his skin looks so pale, his hair is so blond it looks almost white, I wonder if he’s an albino, until I finally realized they’re all talking about the same guy!

And off course he happened to sit right in front of me during English.

“So why are you allowed to use a laptop?”

Oh gods, here we go. Que the war flashbacks form freshmen year when all my classmates had to get used to a blind kid sitting in the back. Only a few were brave enough to ask questions and I could already predict I was going to have to answer them all over again. I wasn’t sure if I had rather this than him asking behind my back.

“I can’t really write any notes without it,” I said monotonously. As much as I loved talking to dead people, the living were an entirely different story. See, ghosts are so filled with their own sorrow; they only hate you when you give them a good reason. Living teenagers can hate you for literally anything. That and I wasn’t up to date with what kids these days liked to talk about, so it was always kind of awkward to keep a conversation going. Yay, introvert-ism…

“You can’t write with pen and paper?” The guy on the desk in front of me asked skeptically. “And could you look me in the eyes when I’m talking to you? Or am I not worth looking at?”

The conversations around us died down. Ooooooooh, boy.

“I don’t know where your face is,” I waved my hand in front of my face, like I always did when I didn’t want to outright say ‘I am blind, you piece of shit’. You’d think my unfocused gaze, the grey in my eyes and the walking stick attached to my bag would be hint enough.

“Oh…” the other guy said. I was not in the mood for this.

“No, I wasn’t born like this. Yes, I can read braille. No, a dog is too expensive. Yes, I will have this laptop with me at every class. No, it’s not mine, it’s school property so no, you can’t play solitaire on it,” I said in one breath, disinterest all over my voice, as if I’d had to repeat it multiple times… and I had.

The guy didn’t say anything. No one in the entire class said anything until the teacher came in and started her lesson. I heard chairs scrape against the floor tiles; the new guy had turned around to face the board. When the bell rang, I didn’t waste a second, saving the file, closing the laptop, grabbing my bag and getting the hell out of there. New guy followed.

“Hey, wait!” He called out. Please, let him be calling for someone else. I heard footsteps run up to me and fall into the same pace as mine, beside me. “I’m sorry, okay?” He said, “I didn’t know.”

“Really? I had no clue,” I deadpanned.

“I messed up,” he panted. Dude had trouble keeping up with my pace, the one I only reserve for getting the fuck away from stupid situations. “Can you, please, slow down? How are you finding your way around this fast?”

“I have class and I know my way around. Can you leave me alone?”

“Stop,” he snapped and grabbed my arm. Fuckboy grabbed my arm! He ceased walking and pulled me to a stop with him. For a good 30 seconds, neither of us said anything. New guy was taking deep breaths while I just frowned in his general direction. “I fucked up,” he spoke up eventually, loud enough so I could understand him over the noise in the hall, “Can we, please, start over again?”

He released my arm and waited for my answer. I raised my eyebrows instead. He coughed.

“I’m, uh, holding up my hand so we can shake it,” he said. I shook my head in exasperation.

“You are aware that every single person in this building and their mother would love to be friends with you, right? And their all much more interesting than I am, I promise you.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt that first statement. But would it sound cliché that you’re the only person so far who’s not drooling over me?” I could practically hear the smirk.

“Yes.”

“Well… I’d rather befriend someone who doesn’t like me for my looks for once.”

“That entire sentence was cliché too.” I heard fabric move, a sound usually connected to a person shrugging their shoulders. I sighed. “So, let me get this straight. You think, because I’m blind, I won’t judge you on your looks?”

“That and you didn’t show any interest in me the past few days, unlike most other people.”

“And there’s _really_ no one else you’d rather hang out with?”

“All my friends live back in California so no,” he mumbled, I almost didn’t hear it in the noise. “Please, just… can I at least sit with you during lunch? I’ve had it with hearing the football team talk tackle strategies over my sandwiches.”

And there he had me. As someone who only took interest in sword fighting and who always had to sit out during PE, I could literally care less about sports and as a result understood completely where this guy was coming from. I sighed again.

“Fine,” I hissed between my teeth.

“My name is North, by the way,” he said a few seconds before the bell rang again, “I’m holding up my hand for you to shake it.”

I shook my head again, which was basically my equivalent of rolling my eyes and lifted my hand as well. North – weird-ass name too for someone from California – grabbed it and gave it a firm shook.

“I’m Dylan,” I told him, begrudgingly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope there's still a kinda sorta structure in this story because I'm too lazy to reread the +20.000 words I've typed down by now. I'm like waaaaaaaay before the NaNoWriMo schedule, I've written twice the amount they expected O_O But holiday is over now, so I expect my enthusiasm will be dying any minute now.
> 
> HOW ARE YOU LIKING THE STORY SO FAR BTW?  
> Why yes, it is blatantly obvious by now who Dylan is supposed to be and if you don't know yet... Meh, it's fine, don't worry about it. Its more fun if it's a surprise anyway :D


	5. Episode 4 - Never Had a Friend like Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And I'm officially done writing this story!  
> 30.339 words is not bad for the first story I finished EVER
> 
> In the end I've written 8 chapters so 4 more chapters will be up very soon.

I had completely forgotten about North by the time lunch came around and aforementioned new guy dropped his box on my table and sat in the chair across mine.

“Okay so, what is up with the Chemistry teacher?” He asked. Who needs a greeting with an entrance like this anyway? I closed the book in braille I was skimming through and put it aside. Yes, I read during lunch because do you know how boring eating is when you’re not really starving?

“What do you mean?” I said, not really that interested but if the guy was going to make it his mission to become his friend, I rather skipped the annoying part where he stalks me.

“First he asks one of the students to lend him a bill of 5 bucks and lights it on fire!” He exclaims, opening his lunchbox. “And that was only on my first day here! But then today, he asks how one can walk on water and off course there’s the obligatory ‘by being Jesus’ answer but other than that no one actually has anything original to say. The teacher then brings out an aquarium filled with water. Do you think he had to transport that all the way over here from his home? Then he adds, I think, corn starch to it and it looks fluid but then he beat his fist against it and it was solid!”

Well, I already learnt one thing from North; he really liked to hear himself talk.

“Is our chemistry teacher a wizard or what?!”

I snorted before slowly chewing my sandwich and swallowed.

“He’s not a wizard as far as I know,” I said indifferently, “but he does like to show his experiments before he explains them.”

“Well, he sure left an impression,” North said in awe, “I can’t wait to see what other stuff he brings to class.”

I hummed and took another bite. North did the same.

“You got a favorite class?”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full.”

He swallowed. “I mean, if classes keep going like they are, Chemistry might be my new favorite course. But I’ve always liked History too.”

Should I should I not keep this conversation going? Well, what else am I gonna do during lunch period? Might as well try to enjoy it.

“History?”

“Yes,” and I swear if I wasn’t blind, I would’ve seen his eyes sparkle or something, “especially ancient civilizations like the Vikings and Egyptians and the Romans and the Greeks, off course. Come on, ask me anything about the Greeks!”

“Do I have to?”

“Yes.”

I sighed and took another bite while thinking of a question. I shouldn’t make it easy just because he’s the new guy, after all.

“What were the names of Achilles’ parents?”

“Thetis and Peleus, that’s an easy one. Ask me another.”

Yeah, okay, he was right, it was an easy one for someone who claimed to be interested in ancient Greece.

“How did Athena became the goddess over Athens?”

“Ah, that was an interesting day. Both Poseidon and Athena wanted their mark on the city, so they challenged each other to invent something that would please the citizens and like them more. Poseidon came up with horses but Athena invented the olive tree which could be used for oil and other things. She also predicted that the olive tree would give Athens a great economy and so she won.”

“Hmm, not bad. Nice and detailed. But can you sum up all of Rhea’s godly children?”

“Hestia, Demeter, Hera, Hades, Poseidon and Zeus, in that order.”

“Where did she and Kronos live?”

“Mount Orthys, which was basically Olympus before Olympus.”

“What are the names of the Titans that killed and helped with the murder of Ouranos and why?”

“Hyperion, Iapetus, Krios and Koios. Kronos is the one who gave the final blow. They did it because Gaea was very displeased with Ouranos.”

“And my final question: how do you get to the Underworld?” I hated myself for asking that question but I couldn’t help it. It was out before I even noticed. North laughed, though I didn’t know why.

“You are ferried across by Charon, of course!” Of course.

“Okay,” I let a tiny smile escape, “I admit defeat. I am genuinely impressed.”

“Did I withstand your trial?” His voice got louder; he was probably leaning forward.

“Not so fast,” I said, “You only passed the first one.”

He groaned but only half-heartedly. My desire to avoid him became also pretty half-hearted, but I wasn’t going to admit that so fast.

* * *

 

I have to begrudgingly tell you that yes, North and I became friends.

I don’t know how the fucker did it but after a week of him pestering me during lunch, English and whenever he caught me in between classes, he started to know exactly what to say to get me in a good mood; especially since I was still in a dilemma between wanting to go to the Underworld and never going back again. I didn’t start calling North my friend until a month later though. Before that, I considered him a… very nice distraction.

The Underworld slowly started to leave my thoughts alone, although falling asleep was still a bit of a problem. At least I started paying attention in class again and stopped getting lost because I wasn’t paying attention to my surroundings. As the days passed by, I felt less and less guilty about not contacting Achilles or Patroclus, even my anger towards Bianca dissipated after a while. When I realized this, I guessed it would only be a matter of time before I started feeling comfortable enough again to go back to Erebos.

In the meantime, North had managed to pair the two of us up for an assignment in English, where we’d have to analyze one of Shakespeare’s plays – we got to pick which one – and present it in front of the class. Considering who I got extra lessons from, this was going to be a piece of cake. North wanted to do the project at my home since his house is apparently filled with loud, annoying siblings but I did not want him to come to my house either since who knows how messy it might be! I only told him that my mom might not like the company and left it at that, even though my mom wouldn’t give a rat’s ass even if I threw a party in our tiny apartment. Hell, she might’ve joined at the drinks table or something!

Since neither of our homes were available, we decided to go to a library or a diner, depending on what we were going to work on.

“Do we really need to look up stuff though?” I asked as we walked down an isle of bookshelves. You might’ve guessed libraries aren’t my favorite places, so I would much rather type everything down I know about Shakespeare plays (which was a lot) instead of having to look for a book I couldn’t read and that may or may not have what we need in it.

“Well, analyzing a thing usually means you got to find a thing, Dylan,” North responded, I guess he was looking through books on aforementioned shelves. I did hear the sounds of books being manhandled and not too gently if I wasn’t mistaken.

“Yeah, but I have most, if not all the plays right here,” I said, tapping my temple. North laughed.

“As much as I trust you, your nerdiness and your ridiculous photographic memory, I do like to actually have a copy of whatever play we pick,” I heard him pick up a hardcover book, shuffle with it and put it back. “So we could also use it to analyze the grammar and spelling and choice of words and all that. Linguistics and stuff. I mean, it is a project for English after all.”

I guess he was right, but I wasn’t about to tell him that. I sighed instead.

“While you’re just hanging around there, why don’t you make yourself useful and decide on which play we can use? Which is your favorite; oh lord of the Shakespeare fanclub?”

I shrugged, not really having a favorite. I liked to think I loved most of them equally; there’s no way I could possibly pick a favorite.

“Maybe Hamlet?” I suggested. “You can never go wrong with Hamlet.”

“Not particularly original but I like it,” North replied before clapping his hands, “Aha! Here they are!”

After finding a copy of Hamlet, we settled down at one of the tables in a corner so we wouldn’t bother anyone else in the library if we started to get too loud. North suggested I start typing down noteworthy things about the storyline on the laptop I borrowed from school – I asked permission, it was fine – while he quick-read through the first few scenes to get a good grasp on the use of language. Then he wrote down whatever he thought was noteworthy so we could discuss and compare our findings about half an hour later, before taking a break. It was probably the first time I had witness North being so quiet and concentrated on his work aside from during class maybe, although he might’ve been fooling around in class all along and I just never noticed. It was kind of refreshing and made me realize how weird it was actually.

Never before did I have someone outside the Underworld that kept constant conversation going with me. I never really had full conversations with anyone aside from therapists, if you call that a conversation – I liked to call them interrogations instead, seemed more appropriate. It felt weird because now that North was still, I suddenly wanted him to talk my ears off again. As if I’d gotten used to his never-ending stream of blabber that came out of his mouth and his presence that was always there just a little behind me, always there to help in case an obstacle was in my way. Off course I still heard the occasional unwanted ghost warning me for incoming traffic but I found I didn’t quite need them anymore now that North was my permanent stalker. I was grateful, though, that he hadn’t offered me to escort me home yet because I might have to punch him in the face then. I’ve been walking that route long enough to know which tiles are loose by now, thank you very much. And besides, if someone ever attacked me or something, I could use what I learned from Achilles, even though I haven’t gotten the chance yet.

Damn, everything somehow goes back to the Underworld, does it? In more ways than one. Everything seemed to make me think of that place.

North seemed to notice too.

“Hey, Dylan,” he asked, sounding uncertain, “Can I ask you a question?”

“Saying no has never stopped you before,” I responded lightheartedly, “What is it?”

North hesitated, maybe rethinking his question or how to ask right.

“What… What is your fascination with the afterlife?” He asked. I stopped typing, my hands still in the air above the braille keyboard.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean… Your favorite movie is The Shining, you like to watch the Ghost Adventures series, you have a huge collection of Stephen King audiobooks, your favorite Shakespeare story is the one with ghosts in it and every time we talk about Greek Mythology, you always know the most about Hades and the Underworld.”

I mulled this over. Fuck, he was right.

“Ghost Adventures is entertaining,” I mumbled as if to defend myself.

“I mean… Yeah it is, but why?” He tapped the table with his fingers. “Or do you just like supernatural fiction?”

At that moment, I considered it. I actually considered telling him about Erebos, telling him about the time I’ve spent down there. I considered telling him I wasn’t interested in the afterlife, the afterlife was interested in me. I considered telling him that there’s a chance I’m a demigod, and a child of big scary boo-man Hades. I considered telling him about how I can touch and move shadows, even though I had refused to play with shadows ever since I last visited the Underworld. I considered telling him about Achilles and Patroclus, and Bianca and Nico, and Hades and Cerberus and how totally not-evil they were when you get to know them better – or when you’re just stubborn enough. I thought of spilling everything.

As quickly as the thought came, that’s how quickly I changed my mind again.

“Nah, just supernatural fiction,” I said, waving it off like it was no big deal, “When you can’t see, stuff that others can’t see either becomes fascinating. Also werewolves and vampires are just cool. Also as a fellow nerd, you have to admit that afterlife theories are very interesting!”

North hummed and stopped tapping the table.

“Yeah, you’re right. Maybe we should do that for our next group assignment; analyze all kinds of afterlife theories from different cultures and religions!” He said, sounding more and more excited with every word he said.

“Sounds cool,” I nodded, even though it would just make me think of the Underworld _again_.

“Alright!” I bet North pumped the air with his fist. “I’m done with my notes, by the way. How are yours?”

* * *

 

“We should exchange numbers.”

“Huh?”

I didn’t even hear North come into English and sit down at his desk that morning, which was unsettling because North is loud in everything he does. As usual, I was already seated, but instead of being with my head in the clouds – or underground would be more accurate – I had my phone out. Mom had taken to texting me every morning to tell me she got to work safely after I started asking casually every day after I came home from school and she was still awake. Mom had also taken to throwing away her beer bottles before she crawled to bed as well as moving herself to bed after waking up on the couch. ‘No need to break my back on that old thing every night’ was her response when I couldn’t find her in her regular drunken stupor and started yelling in panic.

I was typing mom a response – on one of those old nokias with buttons instead of a touch screen; the one’s that when you drop it, the floor breaks – when North had asked his particular question.

“Yeah, I never asked before because I didn’t think you’d have a cellphone,” I heard him tapping on his desk again. He’s been doing that a lot lately. “How can you read the texts anyway?”

I pulled out the one earbud I had in and lifted it in his general direction where he took it over, probably putting it in his own ear. I pushed a button on my prehistorical communication device to make it read out my mother’s text.

“Okay, that’s actually pretty cool,” he said and took my hand so he could put the earbud in it. I flinched a little at the touch.

“Geez, man, invest in gloves before your fingers fall off. It’s not even winter yet,” I commented. He ignored the comment.

“Your mom sounds nice,” he noted instead, “when do I get to meet her?”

“Ehm… I don’t know. Why do you want to meet my mom so badly?”

“One can never have too many mothers,” he said, probably with a giant Cheshire cat grin on his face.

“Wow, are you going to steal my mom?”

“We can share her!”

“That’s weird.”

“Not as weird as the fact that I still don’t have your number yet,” he deadpanned.

“So you can bother me outside of school too? Or during class? No thanks.”

“But what if I’m bored or I have this awesome speech and you’re not there to listen to me?”

“Dude, ask one of your siblings,” I shrugged, putting my phone away. Class was about to start any minute now anyway.

“If we share a mom, you are my sibling,” he said in the most serious voice he could muster up, which didn’t sound very serious but it did make me laugh. Gold star for trying. “Come on, having your number would be really convenient too! What if we need an emergency meeting for our English project?”

But I didn’t get the chance yet because the teacher was calling everyone to be quiet so she could start her lesson. I leant forward and whispered in what I hoped was North’s ear: “I’ll give it to you during lunch. Happy?”

He turned his head towards me and whispered back: “Very.”

And so I gave him my number and he give me his.

* * *

 

If I said that North didn’t abuse the power of having my number with him at all times, I would be lying. Though it only happened once every three or so days, North texted me about the most random stuff in the middle of the night, class or at crack-ass in the morning. Why he was even up at 5 am remains a mystery. Sometimes he texted me about things my phone couldn’t even completely pronounce, so it had to spell it out for me instead. The day he found out that little gig was a complete nightmare. I was warming up dinner in the microwave when I got a text that was read out like so:

“Hey - comma - did you know that there’s a word for the fear of long words – question mark - It’s h-i-p-p-o-p-o-t-o-m-o-n-s-t-r-o-s-e-s-q-u-i-p-e-d-a-l-i-o-p-h-o-b-i-a - full stop”

Had he stood next to me right then and there, I’d have thrown my hot steaming pre-prepared lasagna in his smug face.

Though I didn’t miss the opportunity to send him some dumb stuff too.

North: ‘Do you miss me yet?’

Me: ‘How can I miss you when every time I go outside there are things that remind me of you like garbage bins and dog shit’

This, naturally, started a texting war. And man, was it brutal.

North: ‘Roses are red, violets are blue, I’ve got five fingers, the middle one is for you. With lots of love less than three’

Me: ‘I’d slap you but that’d be animal abuse.’

North: ‘oho, keep rolling those eyes, maybe you’ll find a brain back there.’

Me: ‘Shut up, you’ll never be the man your mother is’

North: ‘BELOW THE BELT, THOMPSON, SEE IF I SHARE MY LUNCH WITH YOU NOW’

The winner has yet to be determined.

Of course, we didn’t just use our phones to call each other idiots every day, we also used it for convenience’s sake – North more so than I did.

North: ‘So my little brothers devoured all of breakfast before I came downstairs this morning.’

Me: ‘Want me to bring you a sandwich?’

North: ‘You’re my hero, Thompson, smiley face’

And then there was that one time in November when I didn’t catch any sleep – I started losing sleep on a regular basis worrying and feeling guilty about the Underworld – and had no energy to go to school that day despite the fact that school would distract me from those thoughts and staying home would only make it worse.

North: ‘hey bro, I took notes of the stuff you missed today, we can go over it at lunch tomorrow. Get better soon, you unlucky little shite’

I admit I did smile a little at that.

* * *

 

The first time I used my phone to make a call though was yet again during a night where my thoughts kept me awake. And it was too much to bear on my own. I called North.

“Good morning, sunshine,” he answered, not at all sounding tired like I had thought he would. “You’re up early!”

I would have retorted with something along the lines of ‘speak for yourself, can you not just sleep at normal human hours’ but I was keeping myself from sobbing to really care.

“Could you… just… talk to me?” I whimpered, and I hated myself for it. “Just… tell me a story or something?”

North was silent for a while, probably processing what he was hearing.

“Dude, Dylan, what’s wrong?” He asked, concern dripping off his voice.

“I… I uhm…” I had trouble answering. I could’ve just told him I had a nightmare but I didn’t want to lie to him. Something told him he wouldn’t have believed me anyway.

“Hey, it’s okay,” North said soothingly, “Do you want me to come over?”

“No, no, mom is sleeping.”

“Okay uhm…” I heard fabric move through the phone. He was probably getting out of bed. “How fast can you get to central park?”

I didn’t really want to go to central park – too close to an entrance to the Underworld – but I didn’t want to tell him that and I needed the fresh air, to be honest. I told him how far I lived from the park and he told me to meet him there.

“Do you want me to stay on the line?”

“No, I’ll be fine, I think.”

“Okay, I’ll see you there.” And then I hung up, getting out of bed before putting on shoes and grabbing my coat, pajamas be damned.

North was already waiting at the entrance of central park when I took the metro over there with my walking stick in an iron grip.

“Hey,” he said softly, “Wanna take a walk or should we sit down?”

“Either is fine,” I shrugged my shoulder, facing the ground, so my voice might have been a little muffled.

“Let’s sit. You look like you’re gonna drop any second now,” he said and gently took my arm, leading us to the nearest bench.

We sat there in the cold for a good ten minutes, enjoying the silence until North finally spoke up.

“Did something happen? At home?”

I took a while before I answered. My brain felt like I was going in slow motion. Nothing was solid, I couldn’t concentrate on anything.

“No.”

North took a while to speak as well, probably thinking carefully of what to ask and how to ask it before doing it.

“Have you been sleeping properly lately?”

“No.”

“Is there a reason for that?”

“I think a lot.”

“What do you think about?”

It took me much longer to answer his question.

“About the afterlife.”

“You mean, other than in a fiction kind of way?”

“Yeah…” He didn’t say anything but nudged my shoulder with his, silently telling me to continue. “After… After I became blind, I found the Underworld.” He still didn’t say anything. “I somehow found myself in a cave. Ghosts were talking to me. I can still hear them if I concentrate but I’ve started to ignore them. I got into a boat and crossed a river. I met more ghosts on the other side and they all told me I was in the Underworld.”

I told him everything. It spilled like a river that had been stopped by a dam for years and finally the dam had broken. I told him about Achilles and Patroclus and about Hades. I told him about Elysium and Cerberus. I told him how I felt when I was down there and then I told him about how I felt it about it then.

“It scares me now. I’m scared of what that place might have done to me.”

“What do you mean?” North had been listening calmly and didn’t interrupt except when he asked me to elaborate on a certain subject.

“The last time I was there… something happened.” I didn’t say more than that, but North was still curious and sounded sincerely concerned.

“What happened?”

“I rather… not say… Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” he rubbed my back soothingly, “Keep going.”

“I guess what happened… It woke me up, you know? Made me realize I hadn’t been in… reality for a while.”

“Reality?”

“Upstairs, as I used to say it. You know… Reality.”

“You think the Underworld wasn’t real?”

“I don’t know… I don’t know what to think. That’s why I can’t sleep. I keep debating on going back and making sure it’s still there but I can never completely confirm it.” I started clenching my fists and I bit my lip. “I can’t see it, therefore it might not exist.”

“I think you’re right,” North said.

“What?”

“I don’t think any of it was real.”

I didn’t say anything. I didn’t want to believe what he said but I doubted the reality of the Underworld myself, had been for months now. I didn’t want the Underworld to be an illusion but… what else could it have been?

“There’s no way the Underworld can exist, it’s just made up stories from a civilization that needed something to explain natural phenomena, to calm their own paranoia,” he said. “It might’ve been the case with you too. Your Underworld was your escape.”

“It was,” I said weakly, as if to defend it, but who was I kidding.

“Yes, but not the way you thought it was. You were only a kid when you became blind. Your childhood was practically taken from you. Your home situation probably had a role in it as well. You had to grow up faster than anyone else of your age,” North pointed out and I realized I had never even considered that. What with my mom never being active at home, I had to take care of myself because no one else was going to do it. “Your Underworld was your way to cope, with being blind, with your mother, with everything. You needed a place where you felt safe, Dylan.” He grabbed my hands and held them tightly, as if to make sure I was paying attention to him. I was. I was listening to every single word he was saying. “Dylan, it’s not your fault that your safe place happened to be made up. You’re not the first one who had to do this.”

I was frozen solid on the bench. I probably looked like I was about to cry; eyes empty of emotion, shoulders sagged, facing the ground. North leaned in and took me in his arms, one hand slowly rubbing my back.

“It’s not your fault. We’ll make this right, okay? You and I, we’ll solve this together,” he said, his voice thick. Was he about to cry as too? North? Of all people? Achilles and Patroclus were the only ones who ever cried for me. They did when they found me playing with Cerberus and thought I was being attacked. They had been so worried. They thought I could’ve been dead. And they weren’t real. They were in my imagination. That made North the second person – my mom being the first – to ever cry for me.

The Underworld wasn’t real. I had made up almost 7 years of my life.


	6. Episode 5 - Imagination

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is really short because I'm dumb and can't order chapters right

It took me until January to convince myself that the Underworld had never been there and that I would be okay despite losing half of my life to my imagination. Where had I been while I was making up Erebos? What had I been doing? Now that the Underworld wasn’t there anymore, there was a large black hole in my memory. North was very supportive when I told him. He said that it’s okay to keep the memories from the Underworld and to treasure them, ‘they are some of your best memories after all’, but I should focus on the difference between reality and make belief.

After the night in the park, North had taken it upon himself to call me every evening before bed to ask if I was going to be okay, and every morning at school he asked the same thing. It felt good to have someone checking up on me occasionally, although he was still annoying sometimes (and I begrudgingly started to call him my friend).

Now and then there would be a night where I’d call North – he was, for some weird-ass reason, always awake whenever I called – and we’d meet up at the park and either talk about useless stuff, school or say nothing and just sit in a comfortable silence. One night I didn’t feel like talking but I got nervous because not talking meant I couldn’t confirm he was there, so he had held my hand the entire time. Another night, I had gone rigid in my bed and couldn’t move. I had called North in a panic and he had come to our tiny apartment within 5 minutes. Stiffly, I had moved myself to the front door and had opened it for him before collapsing on the floor. That was the first time North had been inside my home.

We had watched tv mostly, with the volume very low so my mom wouldn’t wake up. She had found us the next morning sleeping on the couch, first angry because why the hell was there a stranger in her house?! She calmed down considerably when I had told her North was my friend and there was nothing to worry about. I refused to tell her about the night terrors though. No need to worry mom while she was finally getting better.

North started to come by regularly until it became routine for us to come to my home after school, do homework together and goof off.

“You still like Greek Mythology, right?” He asked one day when he was laying on my bed, dangling his legs off the side and I was sitting on the floor, organizing the folders on my borrowed computer in alphabetical order.

“Yeah,” I answered.

“Oh, okay, because I thought with… You know… You might not be into it anymore.”

“Nah, I’m good. I’m still a nerd.”

“Good! I like you better when I can make fun of you!”

I grumbled.

“Because I found this card game. It’s called Mythomagic and it’s kind of like Magic The Gathering and Dungeons and Dragons combined but with Greek and Roman Mythology and I think it has Norse and Egyptian extension packs and I thought you might like it because you’re a nerd and the cards have a relief thing so you can feel the letters on it and stuff and it has figurines.”

Had he been standing, I would’ve tackled him to the ground and hugged the life out of him. I had probably the most considerate friend ever.

North celebrated Christmas and New Years with my mom and me, the first ones I had with my mother completely sober since the seizure. My birthday was not long after that and by the time I was 15, I had only one thing to figure out. The only thing I hadn’t told North yet.

It had been since August since I last tried to move shadows. Just like with the Underworld, I had been afraid to use them because they had always been so real before. What if they were made up too? I had yet again no way to confirm other than what my gut feeling told me, which I hadn’t been able to trust in months. After North had left to celebrate my birthday – he gave me the Roman extension pack of Mythomagic, what a loser – I sat in a corner of my room. The feeling of shadows around me had never completely left, but just like the ghosts, I had ignored it, mostly. Sometimes, usually on a sunny day when the shadows are too dark and too sharp to ignore, I would relish in the feeling of being able to see just a little bit. At night, the feeling was overwhelming. I had started to get nightmares of the darkness swallowing me up, about trying to use my powers one last time and losing control of it.

The ever-present feeling of shadows didn’t sooth me anymore and if I ever wanted to get over my imagination, I’d have to learn how to stop being conscious of them once and for all. But as I sat there in the corner, wedged between my bedside table and the wall, the shadows didn’t seem as threatening. In fact, they felt oddly familiar.

I shook my head. I wasn’t supposed to focus on the shadows; they had to leave my mind. But it was almost like the shadows didn’t want me to, but didn’t force their presence on me either. They were just… there, waiting for me to take the next step. They were waiting for me to either acknowledge their existence or forget they were ever there. They weren’t imposing, they were patient. They would accept whichever choice I would make.

I sat forward a little, uncertain, but inspired once again. I stretched out my hand to the shadows under my bed, hesitating right before I touched them. It wasn’t me that made the first move. The shadow rose up from their position on the floor and wrapped itself around my hand like fingers made out of mist, embracing an old friend.

Stuck between wanting to embrace the feeling of having control over the dark shade under my bed and wanting to convince myself I’m imagining things again, I sat back again and let the shadows come to me instead, while I thought this through. How can I be sure that what I’m feeling is real? How can I prove to myself that the shadows can and will move with me.

Mom wasn’t home. I called North over.

* * *

 

 “I can manipulate shadows.”

“You can what now?”

North and I were sitting on the floor of my tiny bedroom with the curtains drawn and a flashlight. We were sitting cross-legged and facing each other, although North probably had a look of surprise plastered on his face. Had I been able to see it, I might’ve laughed at it.

“I can move shadows.” North didn’t say anything for a while. I didn’t even hear him breathing anymore. Before I could poke his potential dead body, he finally spoke up again.

“What do you mean, you can move shadows?”

“It’s… It’s like a superpower… Like that blind character you told me about. With the controlling of the elements?”

“You mean Toph from Avatar?”

“Yeah! It’s like but with shadows.”

We were silent again for another five minutes.

“Why are you telling me this now?”

“You believe me then?”

“That depends. Why are you telling me?”

I breathed in and out slowly.

“I want you to confirm that it’s real or not.”

“Pardon?”

“I’m going to show you what I can and then you tell me what you saw; either shadows moving with me or nothing happens and I’m making a fool of myself and you get to laugh.”

North seemed to hesitate at first but said in a confident voice: “Alright, show me what you got.”

I turned on the flashlight and put it on the ground so it was lighting up one of the walls.

“Make a shadow with your hands,” I said.

“Done,” North confirmed but he didn’t have to because I could sense the failed bunny shape he tried to make against the wall. I stood up and went over to the shadow, gently touching it with the tips of my fingers.

“Alright, you can pull your hands back now.” North retracted his hands as asked, but the shadow stayed. I stretched and molded it until eventually, it actually resembled what I hoped was a realistic bunny – I hadn’t seen or touched one in years. I turned to where North said, who hadn’t spoken a word while I did the thing, and waved my hands around uncertainly. “Tada?”

Not a word.

“Did I look stupid?”

“No, but I probably do,” North mumbled. “Forgive me, I had to scrape my jaw from the floor. How the hell did you do that?!” He practically yelled. I had to laugh at that.

“So I wasn’t imagining it? This is real?” I asked as I sat back on the carpet.

“It sure is,” North sighed, “that was amazing, Dylan. How long have you been able to do this?”

“I don’t know how long, but I discovered it a year or two ago,” I said with a grin I couldn’t wipe off even if I tried. The shadows were real. The shadows were real!

“Damn. How am I supposed to impress you know?”

“Pff, what do you have to impress me with?”

North paused and coughed before answering.

“I uh… I wasn’t actually planning on telling you just yet but…” he said nervously. “I have something to show you too.”

 “You do?”

“Yeah.” He then took my hand in his and turned mine so our palms were touching. His hands were cold as ever, but they turned even colder. And then I felt something grow larger between our hands, something even colder than North’s skin. When he lifted his hand from mine and I used both of mine to carefully inspect the object that came out of nowhere, I realized it was a cube.

An ice cube.

“How the hell…”

“I’ve been able to do that since I was very young,” he said with pride. “I can also make a snow man but I don’t think you’d like one in your room.”

“You’ve got a superpower too?” I asked in awe.

“Actually, my entire family does,” he admitted, now sounding embarrassed, “Sorry, I never told you.”

“I didn’t tell you about mine either until now.”

“Yeah but I’m comfortable and take pride in what I can do. There’s a difference,” he sighed. “I wanted to show you before but…”

I waved my hand around a bit until I found his shoulder. The ice cube had already melted on my other hand.

“It’s okay, I get it,” I patted his shoulder and smiled encouragingly. “Can your entire family create ice and snow?”

“No, actually,” North said fondly, “We all have something different. I have a brother who can create light out of his hands, one who can control water, I’ve got a sister who could erase all of our memories if she wanted to, a sister can control the earth, another sister who can also control water and my youngest brother can make time slow down.”

I whistled, proving North wrong. I was impressed.

“Now I get why you always tell me there’s total chaos at your place.”

“You have no idea,” he chuckled.

“But then…” I bit my lip nervously, “North, the thing with the Underworld.”

“What about it?”

“Does that mean that… it’s real too?”

North sighed and I hear the sound of skin rubbing on skin. I thought he was rubbing his hand over his face.

“Dylan, what you and I can do has got nothing to do with myths.”

My enthusiasm deflated.

“You think so?”

“I know so,” he replied curtly, “this power has been in our family for years, centuries even. What we have is not a myth. This is real.”

“Right.”

We both sat in silence for a while. Our powers seemed less inspiring now that the topic of the Underworld had been brought back. I was certain North was disappointed in me for rehashing, after all that work to get better.

“Dylan, you’re thinking again. Tell me what you’re thinking,” he said, concern all over his voice, instead of the anger I was expecting.

“I just…” I shrugged my shoulders, “I think I was kind of hoping you and your family would be demigods.”

North didn’t answer for a long time. Maybe I had crossed the line and this was the point where he wouldn’t help me anymore and call me crazy. I wasn’t sure if I was prepared for that. I wasn’t sure if I could be by myself anymore.

“You think stuff like that is real?” He asked, not in a mocking tone like I thought he would, but with genuine interest.

“I mean… I have reason to believe demigods are a thing.”

“You think you’re a demigod?”

“I don’t know,” I shook my head, “It would make sense, with my dad and all, but I’m not sure.”

“I don’t think you are.”

I lifted my head. “What?”

“I think you’re more important than that,” he said with certainty, “I think you have more value than any demigod would have.”

My cheeks turned red, I could feel the blood leaving my body to go fill my face in a bright red color. I felt so embarrassed and so flattered that I didn’t even notice he never answered my question.


	7. Episode 6 - Reality

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shit's getting intense

January passed as fast as it had come and soon the months became a blur. I had less issues with night terrors or having to stay awake and so North didn’t come over as much anymore. Even for doing homework after school, he always had something to do at home. ‘Crazy family and all’ he’d say before heading home. It was kind of strange at first since it had been a while since I had to walk home and prepare dinner on my own. North had usually stayed to help and enjoy the food himself before heading home. I was okay on my own though, now that I had rediscovered the nice presence of shadows. Mom didn’t ask questions – she was just happy I had a friend though she never said it what that many words – but after a few weeks of North not turning up in her household as much, she asked me if we were having a fight.

“No fight,” I told her, trying to sound sure because to be entirely honest, I wasn’t completely certain if we were entirely okay or not. I had a bad foreboding feeling. Maybe I said something wrong and he’s angry at me?

“Is he so distant at school too?” Mom asked, putting away the beer bottles from last night while I was preparing the small table in the kitchen for dinner.

“I don’t think so,” I shrugged, “He still likes to hear himself talk.”

“Hmm,” my mother made a tapping noise, maybe tapping her chin with her finger as if in deep thought. “Maybe he has a crush on you,” was her conclusion and I almost dropped the plates I was holding.

“Sorry, what was that?”

“Does North have a crush on you?”

I shook my head rapidly.

“Why would he have a crush on me? That’s weird!”

“What, are you opposed to same sex relationships?” She scolded. She used to put her hands on her hips whenever she lectured me, I was pretty sure she was doing it now as well.

“No no, that’s not what I’m saying. I mean… Why would North have a crush on me of all people? I don’t know if he even swings that way…”

I heard the slapping of bare feet walking toward the kitchen. I was by now putting homemade lasagna on the two plates. Yes, I can cook, as long as everything is where they’re supposed to be and nobody moves them around. Also as long as I don’t have a cold, I need smell to make food.

“I just noticed how nice that boy is to you and how considerate of your issues,” mom said. I snorted.

“My issues?”

“You have been sleeping badly, haven’t you?” I grabbed my fork and stuffed my face with food so I didn’t have to answer, but that resulted in an awkward silence in which my mother expected an answer. I swallowed the lasagna. I did a good job.

“I’m getting better,” I mumbled, and took another fork-full. I could hear mom’s fork clanging against her plate. What more did she want to hear? “You knew then?”

“You two aren’t as quiet as you’d like to be,” she said fondly.

“How are you sleeping, mom?” I asked in a small voice.

“I’m still a light sleeper but I get enough hours of rest, don’t worry,” and she finally began eating.

* * *

 

“What do you mean ‘you can’t come to school anymore’?”

“Just like I said it; I can’t come to school anymore,” North sighed and I heard something squeak. He was gripping his phone tighter. “I’m sorry, Dylan, some stuff is happening at home and it demands all of my attention. It’s only going to get more intense.”

“But what about exams? Will you be able to finish your year? What’s going on at home?” I asked, seriously concerned. North had missed a day of class here and there but the week before, he had completely stopped showing up. I had spent all of my breaks asking other people if they had seen him around anywhere or if they knew anything about his absence. I had tried my phone but this was the first time he had picked up.

“I’ll keep studying and all but I’ll have to take my exams when you guys are already done.”

“I can help you with notes and stuff.”

“That’s very nice of you, Dylan, but won’t be necessary. Thanks for asking though,” North chuckled.

“But what’s going on at your house? Is it worrying? Is your family alright?” I fired question after question but North deflected all of them.

“My… youngest brother is going through some stuff and our father is not exactly any help. That’s about all I can say about it.”

“Okay…” I said. “Will you keep me updated?”

“I will. I’ll call you again when it looks like we’re going to be fine, okay?”

“Okay…”

“Will you be fine? On your own, I mean.”

“Pfff, I’ve gone years through life without eyes and without your help, thank you very much!”

“Awww, you wound me! I thought I meant more to you then that!”

We both laughed at our mock confidence and mock hurt until we fell silent for a few seconds.

“Hey, North.”

“Hey, Dylan.”

“Can I ask you a question?”

“You just did, you goof.”

“Do you like boys?”

North was quiet before bursting into laughter.

“Well uhm,” he coughed out between giggles, “I did have a girlfriend call Phoebe at some point, but I can’t deny I’ve thought about the other gender in that way before.”

“So…”

“So, I’m bi, Dylan darling,” I could almost hear the giant smirk and gods did I want to punch it through the phone. “What about you? Why do you ask anyway?”

“Mom brought up the subject during dinner,” North snorted, “and I’ve never really thought about it.”

“Dylan,” he gasped theatrically, “are you telling me you’re 15 and you’ve never been in a relationship before?”

“Because the blind guy is so attractive obviously.”

“Wow wow there, Thompson, you’re not un-attractive so it wouldn’t actually surprise me if some girls or boys found you hot, or at least cute.” Now it was my time to snort.

“Sure.”

“What?” North whined. “You’re cute when you pat your tiny hands around the table when you’re looking for something.”

“I’m going to hang up now.”

“But whyyyyyy? I can’t help that you’re adorable!”

“I suddenly don’t feel so bad about you not coming to school anymore.”

“Aww, you felt bad about it?”

“Not anymore.”

“That’s a shame because I’m gonna miss you, you massive nerd.”

I rolled my hands into fists and swallowed.

“I’m gonna miss you too, you ass,” I almost whispered.

“See? Adorable,” North cooed and then I really did hang up.

* * *

 

Achilles had been very patient.

He knew Dylan needed time to recover from his seizure the last time he was in the Underworld. But even though times worked differently down there, Achilles knew that it had been way too long since he had last seen his living friend. Patroclus agreed that Dylan’s absence was worrying but fully believed Dylan would come back.

They had no idea how he was doing. In fact, there were lots of questions after the arrival of Daedalus and the demigods he brought with him. Like how was Dylan doing? How was he coping with the seizure? Was he thinking of them? Was he ever going to come back? Was he angry at them? Was he sick? Was he injured? Had something happened to him on the surface that made it hard for him to come back? Did he lose the ability to find the Underworld? Did it have something to do with what was going on with the gods?

One thing they were certain of: Dylan wasn’t dead. They would’ve seen his soul hanging around in the Underworld otherwise.

But something was stirring. They could all feel it, even in Elysium. Something big was going to happen.

And that theory was confirmed when Achilles found a young demigod at the shore of the River Styx.

He immediately knew what he was planning and Achilles warned him, told him about his own invincibility and how he had died anyway but the boy didn’t turn back. The boy told him how he wanted to become invincible so he could be the vessel of Kronos and wouldn’t disintegrate. One body can only hold one soul after all. Two souls put too much stress on a body, and it will die and it will take both souls with it.

Achilles knew he couldn’t do or say anything to change the boy’s mind, but he refused to tell him how to get through this. He couldn’t prevent Kronos from rising, but he could hope that the boy wouldn’t survive a dip in the Styx, however harsh that may sound. He watched the boy dive in and left.

Not long after, Achilles found two more demigods at the shore. The taller one reminded him of Dylan, they had the same humor and the same look of confidence in their eyes. The shorter had a striking resemblance with Lord Hades. He warned them too, told them the same thing he’d told the other boy, but they too didn’t listen, however they did consider. The older looking boy’s back was straight and certain when he said he had to do this for the ones he loved. Achilles decided to tell them how to get through the process, what he’d have to do to get out again. He declared the boy foolish but respected him nonetheless. He didn’t stay to watch him dive in.

He only returned to Elysium for a few moments to tell Patroclus what he was planning, kissed him on the forehead and left for the nearest exit to the living world. He would never be alive but he could travel around as a ghost if he concentrated. If Dylan wasn’t coming back, Achilles would go to Dylan. Achilles was certain his friend somehow had a connection with all of this. He had to know what was happening.

* * *

 

I barely heard from North after that phone call.

I wasn’t as worried as I probably should’ve been; I knew North was going to ace his exams like he aced everything in class and I had faith that the issue with his little brother would be solved eventually. I kept that mentality during the rest of the semester, during finals, during July and half of August, moving shadows through my fingers to lower my growing anxiety. I couldn’t explain why, but there was this growing sensation of something that was about to go wrong.

That sensation kept figuratively prodding me in the back to get out of bed and do something about it! I told myself that I didn’t know how but I was lying to myself. I knew that if I stopped putting a stopper on my thoughts, the answer would reveal itself, but I refused to do that. North and me had worked so hard on learning the difference between imagination and reality, I felt it was a waste if I just abandoned all that.

I knew the Underworld wasn’t real.

Yet… North and my powers told me otherwise. North had said that what we could do had nothing to do with the Underworld and I believed him. He was my best friend after all. But something in the back of my mind whispered that it just didn’t make sense. None of it did! All North had told him made sense and at the same time it didn’t!

Confusion raced through my mind, debating over what was right and what was wrong, as I sat on North and my bench in Central Park, when I heard a misty voice talk behind me.

 _“Dylan!”_ The voice sounded relieved. I felt anything but.

I would’ve ignored the voice, like I did with the others, but I recognized this one. It scared me. If I acknowledged the voice, all North and me had worked on would be lost, I’d be stuck in my imagination again, but if I ignored the voice, I might hurt the ghost it belonged to.

 _“Thank the gods you’re okay,”_ it spoke and moved to stand in front of me instead of behind me. _“Pat and I were worried.”_

I swallowed and didn’t dare to move.

_“Dylan?”_

No, leave me alone. Stay with me. My head was hurting.

 _“I’m right here, in front of you,”_ the voice lowered, as if it was crouching down before me.

“You’re not,” it was out before I even knew it, “You’re not real,” I murmured.

_“Dylan?”_

“You’re not real.”

Achilles didn’t speak. He made no noise. No breathing, no ruffling of fabric, no sign of him being alive, no sign of him being there.

“Would you like me to describe our surroundings?” I flinched. That was the first thing he had said to me after he found me wandering around Elysium, completely lost and disoriented. “It resembles Elysium quite a lot. There is a large clearing surrounded by trees and paths. There are children playing and chasing each other, and there are two teenage boys throwing a discus at each other.” I fought the urge to chuckle. He meant a Frisbee, probably. “There’s an ice-cream car at the opposite side of the clearing,” I actually chuckled at that. Achilles and Pat had no idea what ice cream or an ice-cream car were until I found one for them in another district of Elysium. “And there are families having lunch on blankets. The sun is shining brightly in the sky. It is a beautiful summer’s day. It’s a pity you can’t see it…” Achilles said with sadness.

I felt numb. I didn’t want to listen to him, afraid he was another figment of my imagination. But…

I called out to the first pair of footsteps I heard approach.

“Excuse me?”

The footsteps paused before coming over to where I was sitting. It was a young woman, probably a mother and she had noticed my walking stick, because she said: “Yes, darling? Do you need help?”

“I was just wondering if I could ice cream around here somewhere.”

“Yes, actually. There’s an ice cream truck selling some at the other side of the grass field. Would you like me to bring you there?” She asked with a very nice, sincere voice. I rarely came across strangers who were so willing to help me out. I smiled at her both for her kindness and what her answer meant.

“No, thank you, I’ll get there by myself just fine. Thank you very much,” I responded, elated.

“Be safe, dear,” the woman said before continuing to walk. I felt a grin grow on my face and I tried to face where Achilles’ voice had come from.

“You knew about the ice cream,” I said in a small voice. I felt like crying out of happiness. He was real. Everything had been real!

 _“Off course I know about it, it’s right there,”_ Achilles said, sounding confused but I didn’t care. If I could’ve hugged him, I would’ve, not giving a damn about being in public. But as it was, I wouldn’t have been able to touch him so it was no use. Still, I could’ve danced right then and there I was so happy. I reached out my hand though, still feeling the desire to touch my friend in some way.

“I missed you, Chilli.”

I felt that familiar cold sensation around my hand that meant it was being held by something supernatural and not entirely there.

 _“Then why didn’t you come back?”_ Achilles asked.

I bit my lip and stood up, grabbing my walking stick.

“Let’s go to my apartment,” I said and started walking, knowing Achilles would follow. Hugging thin air is one thing but being perceived as blind and dement by other park-goers would’ve probably end me up in lots of trouble.

* * *

 

“They were going to do what now?”

 _“Swim in the Styx and become invincible_ ,” Achilles answered for the fifth time but not sounding annoyed for even a little bit.

“But the Styx kills everyone that goes in it, doesn’t it?” I asked disbelievingly. We were both sitting on the couch with the curtains drawn. Mom was off to work so we had the entire apartment to ourselves. Achilles had immediately jumped into explaining why he was there to begin with – you know, besides to love me off course, and to make me feel guilty about not coming by once in a year.

_“Yes, but it is possible to come out alive and impossible to injure and a thousand times stronger if you do it right.”_

“That’s nuts!” I gasped.

 _“I am so glad to have you back,”_ Achilles sighed affectionately.

“Me too,” and my grin came back. “How did you get out of the Underworld though?”

_“I took the Orpheus route, came out not too far from where you were sitting.”_

“But how did you get past Cerberus?”

_“He was not there.”_

I raised an eyebrow. Cerberus wasn’t at his post? Cerberus, the biggest workaholic next to Hades?

_“The two demigods caused quite the commotion. They must be very important.”_

“What did you say they looked like?”

 _“One was fairly tall and confident, had your kind of humor_ ,” I smiled proudly at that, knowing that Achilles probably had a look of exhaustion plastered on, _“the other looked quite young and resembled Lord Hades’ features a lot. Now that I think about it, he seemed to radiate death.”_

I knew only one person like that.

“I think you might’ve met Nico.”

_“Nico? Lord Hades’ son?”_

“The very same.”

 _“Well, it would not surprise me if the son of Lord Hades got himself in the business of Kronos,”_ Achilles sighed, _“I believe we should be prepared for the worst.”_

“I remember Kronos being mentioned before, by Bianca,” I said, “What’s going on?”

 _“I think we have reason to believe he will attempt to overthrow Olympus,”_ Achilles reasoned, _“The gods are the sworn enemies of the gods, after all.”_

“Worst family dispute ever…” I said, remembering North’s home situation in a split second before going back to the issue at hand. “Overthrowing Olympus is a bad thing, I presume?”

_“It would not be pretty for mortals, demigods and other deities alike. But if Kronos is planning to attack Olympus, you’re not safe here.”_

“Huh?” I frowned, “Why? Isn’t Olympus in Greece or something? Floating on a cloud in the sky?”

_“Not exactly. Olympus moves with the center of Western society, meaning it is located here in New York if John Kennedy is right.”_

Achilles had talked to John F. Kennedy. Had we been talking about another subject, I might have laughed.

“Olympus is in New York… Why am I not surprised,” I commented in a dry tone.

 _“Dylan,”_ I felt the cold air around my hand again. This time, it felt more intense than ever. “ _We should not stay here. If those two demigods had to use invincibility to defeat Kronos, the invasion might be closer than we think.”_ Suddenly I became aware of the tension around is. It had been there all summer but ever since Achilles entered the room, it had been pressing down on them, becoming heavier and heavier. I realized how dangerous everything had suddenly become. A titan, Kronos, the king, was about to attack Olympus, kingdom of the gods, and he wouldn’t give a shit about how many humans he’d trample in the process. New York was in danger. Everyone living in New York was in danger. My classmates, my teachers, the nice lady in the park, North and his family, my mom were all in terrible danger.

_“Dylan, come with me to the Underworld. You should be safe there. Kronos won’t disturb the dead, there’s no reason for him.”_

I shook my head, the idea was absurd.

“I’m not leaving,” I said stubbornly, “Especially not without my mom or North, and if I’m taking North to safety, I’m taking his entire family.”

_“You can’t bring the living to the Underworld, Dylan, you know that.”_

“Exactly. So I’m not leaving.”

Achilles sighed and touched my face.

_“You sound like Patroclus when we were fighting near the walls of Troy together.”_

I felt my heart swell with pride at those worse. Being compared with Patroclus, best of the Greek, is the best compliment you could get, especially from Achilles.

_“Alright. You stay, but I stay too.”_

“Wouldn’t want it any other way,” I smiled. 


	8. Episode 7 - The Battle of Manhattan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to look up everything that happened in the battle and I came across the names of people that died and then I had to cry :/

The first person I called was my mom, immediately throwing me into a panicked frenzy when she didn’t pick up. Next I wanted to call North but he beat me to it before I could press the right button.

“North?”

“Dylan! It’s been a while,” he said casually.

“Are you okay?” I asked nervously, the incoming doom of Kronos looming over me like the shadows in my night terrors.

“I’m more than okay!” North said as if there wasn’t a titan about to attack Manhattan as if it was Rome. “That thing with my little brother? It’s going to be alright!”

“What?”

“I said I’d call you if the situation with my family started looking up, right? Well, it took us very long to do it but we’re going to be fine.” I didn’t know what to say. I was happy for North and his siblings but the nerves didn’t exactly give me time to celebrate. After a few moments of silence, in which I looked for the right words to respond with, North took it upon himself to speak instead: “I missed you, man.”

“I missed you too,” I nearly whimpered.

“Are you alright, Dylan?” He asked, now concerned instead of enthusiastic.

“Yeah, I mean, I think I will be. Listen, can we meet up?”

“I was about to ask the same thing,” North chuckled, “I finally got time now to give you some attention.”

“Great! You want to come to my house?”

“Actually… Would you mind coming to Central Park instead?” He asked apologetically.

“I mean, it’s a little out of the way and I just came from there, but okay.”

“Can we meet up now?” I was actually going to suggest that myself – the sooner I got him out of there, the better – but coming from him, it was weird. Why was North so eager to see him? Had he really missed him that much?

“Okay, I should be there in half an hour,” I said.

“See you then,” and he stopped the call. I turned towards the living room where Achilles was waiting.

_“That was North?”_

“Yeah, we’re meeting him at Central Park,” I said as I grabbed my backpack from its usual spot, walking stick securely folded up in the side pocket.

_“What about your mother?”_

“She’s not answering so I want to check in on her where she works.”

And with that we left.

* * *

 

Around where I lived, it was complete chaos. There was traffic everywhere, chauffeurs yelling at each other and no one knew what exactly the problem was. I went to the subway, Achilles following me, but none of the trains were going. All public transport was closed off. There was no way of going on the island.

“I’ll have to shadow travel there,” I told Achilles, “Whatever Kronos is planning is already happening. I have to get mom and North out of there.”

 _“Okay,”_  Achilles said. I had expected him to question what I meant by shadow travel, since I had never actually told him. Patroclus must’ve told him. Those two were loyal to the bone for each other.  _“How do we do this?”_

“I’m not sure,” I murmured, “Grab my arm, maybe that will work.”

I stepped into the nearest shadow, the cold sensation of Achilles’ misty hand grasped around my bicep. Next thing I knew, the loud barks of angry drivers and tooting of car horns were gone, and replaced by total silence. I moved my head around in confusion. This didn’t sound like Central Park at all. Had I brought us somewhere else? Achilles noticed my distress.

 _“We are at the bench I found you this midday,”_  he said reassuringly,  _“But... everyone is sleeping,” he said less reassuringly._

“What do you mean?”

 _“Like I said; everyone is just… sleeping,”_  he said, sounding very confused himself.

I took my stick from my backpack and slowly moved to the exit of the park. There were no car horns or engines, no ambulance or police sirens, no tourists enthusiastically talking to each other, no rapid footsteps of people trying to get to their work in time. There was only complete, unnerving silence.  I maneuvered myself across the pavement but Achilles stopped me.

 _“Watch out!”_  He called,  _“Lady on the ground.”_

I faced the floor, poking around with my stick. And yep, there was something soft lying there in front of me. I was going to be sick.

“You’re sure they’re sleeping and not…?”

_“No, they’re all breathing, the ones in the vehicles too.”_

“Oh…” I sincerely hoped traffic was ridiculous in Manhattan that day. If the sleeping beauty rip off had happened suddenly, there could’ve been serious accidents. “I have to find my mom. Now.”

 _“What about North?”_  Achilles asked.

“We’re going to meet up in about twenty minutes. Should be long enough to go to the diner my mom works at and back. Come on!”

The moment I took a step forward, it was like someone had stabbed the back of my head. I was eight again, on the sidewalk, on my way to school, watching as pedestrians panicked or just sidestepped from the little kid who was having spasms. I was back in the Underworld, for the last time in a year.

I was scared. I was going to pass out again from the pain, I was going to lose control over my thoughts and limbs soon, I was going to be spazzing on the ground with no way of knowing if I was safe or not.

Then I was surrounded by the familiar cold sensation of a ghost hugging me from behind.

 _“Dylan, stay with me,”_  Achilles said softly and calmly in my ear with his voice of mist _, “I am here. I am not leaving you alone.”_

That’s right.

This is my first time having a seizure and I wasn’t alone. Achilles was with me. Achilles would take care of me. Achilles would make sure I wouldn’t die. This considerably lessened the pain in my head but it didn’t leave. It was just painful enough to constantly remind me it was there, but I didn’t feel like I was going to lose control over my own body anymore.

“I’ll be okay,” I said, swallowing and breathing in and out slowly, “I’ll be fine…”

_“Are you certain?”_

“Yes… Thank you,” I turned my head towards Achilles voice. He was still holding me. “It feels different when I’m not alone.”

 _“Good,”_  he stepped back slowly, still keeping close to me though.

“Something is happening, Chilli,” I said, my voice laced with fear, the reality of the danger setting in even more than before. The threat was close. “It’s the same as last time, when you said there had been a battle in the demigod camp.”

_“You think the battle with Kronos has already started?”_

I moved my head towards the ground, where the woman was peacefully sleeping, blissfully ignorant of what was happening around her.

“Let’s find mom and hope North makes it here,” I said, straightening my back but actually feeling like I was going to piss my pants any minute now.

We started walking, me leading since I knew the way by heart, and Achilles and my walking stick on the lookout for random bodies on the floor.

* * *

 

The diner mom worked in was about ten minutes from Central Park and another ten minutes from the Queens-Midtown tunnel and was just as silent as the entirety of Manhattan.

“Mom?” I called out, but obviously there was no answer. Didn’t hurt to try.

I quickly described what my mom looked like to Achilles – my description should’ve been accurate as long as mom hadn’t gotten a nose job or her hair color changed and hadn’t told me – and proceeded to feel my way around to keep myself calmed down. The people in the diner were also sleeping, some with their faces in their food, others snoring softly. The people in the kitchen weren’t near anything hot or sharp, but I did turn off the stoves and anything else that might make the place explode.

Achilles eventually found her slumped down in a corner but too heavy for me to lift and bring her something potentially saver.

“What do we do?” I asked, desperate for some good ideas because I was sold out.

_“Can you shadow travel her to where you live? That’s the safest place for her to be right now,” Achilles offered and I nodded, not really knowing anything better to do._

“I’ll be right back.”

One delivery of mother in her bedroom and a second shadow travel later, I was back outside the diner, heading back to Central Park to meet with North.

And then I realized North couldn’t possibly meet up with us if he was fast asleep.

“M-maybe he’s not asleep! Like I’m not asleep either, I’ve never been more awake and prone to pant shitting I my life!” I reasoned with Achilles after I told him my revelation.

_“Which begs the question why you two would still be awake,” he said._

“Maybe it’s got something to do with my shadow thingy and his ice thingy?”

_“His ‘ice thingy’?”_

“Long story short: North can make ice cubes.”

Suddenly, our journey to the park was cut short when we heard an explosion coming  from the tunnel. 

Achilles didn’t think twice about he was doing next, ancient warrior instinct reviving and telling him to check it out. I didn’t really have a choice but to follow.  The closer we came to the tunnel entrance, the more battle sounds we could hear. Not like those petty fights you sometimes see in New York but actual sword against sword and ‘for Narnia’ warriors cry movie battles. And they sounded way more dangerous and brutal than on tv.

Achilles kept moving forward but I took a step back, falling over something. Another sleeping person? No… this one wasn’t breathing and had something steel and sharp embedded in his chest. I didn’t even scream, I just froze where I was slumped over. My brain was shortcutting. I had no idea of what to do, what exactly was going on, whether or not I should defend myself,…

Then I heard heavy footsteps, like an overgrown elephant, coming my way with an ear shattering roar. If it hadn’t been for Achilles’ lessons and quick reflexes, I would’ve been monster stew.  It took me only one second to calculate where the hilt of the sword in the body would be and how to swing to get it in the monster’s face. It took another three seconds for me to execute the pull and swing, ignoring the noises it made. With one swift movement, I had plunged the sword inside the stomach of whatever the creature was, before it was raining sand on me. Weird, but I wasn’t asking questions. I had to get out of there with or without Achilles. I’d meet him back in the Underworld when this was all over.

But something stopped me again.

“Dylan!” I heard my friend’s voice come out from between the war cries and monster roars.

“North?” I called out about a second before I felt something impale my stomach and nail it against the building behind me.

“I’m afraid it’s not North in this form,” North said. I mean, it was North’s voice, I was certain it was his voice! “but off course you can’t see that.”

I didn’t answer. Breathing alone hurt too much. There was a rod of some kind in my body. There was something in my body! I was going to die if I didn’t get it out of there! Trying to ignore the pain and the blood (and failing miserably), I wrapped one of my hands around the rod and tried to pull it out, but it was glued the wall behind me. North – or at least, the voice I recognized as North – tutted and walked closer.

“Don’t be scared, Dylan. It shouldn’t take long before your soul leaves your body and you get to go to the Underworld. That shouldn’t scare you, should it?”

I vaguely heared Achilles yelling somewhere, but I couldn’t focus right. All my attention was on whatever was imbedded right under my ribs, the pain it caused, and the voice of North, whom I had trusted with my entire life. I wanted to ask him why but my mouth was quickly filling with blood, seeping out through the corners of my lips.

“I’ve killed you once, Charon. You won’t escape this time,” he sneered, voice filled with hate and I almost sobbed.

Then he turned around and left. My best friend left me there to die. At least I thought it was my best friend, I wasn’t sure anymore. I was surrounded by a cold sensation. Was that Achilles or was I turning into a mist person as well?

 _“Not you too! Not like this!”_  I heard a voice from far away, but the sounds of war started to go further and further.

The pain slowly left as well. I think I must’ve lost consciousness at some point because it became very quiet, as if I was back in the sleepy part of Manhattan.

And then I died.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I took advantage ofthe fact that Koios was not mentioned in the PJO series AT ALL :D  
> LET THE BODIES HIT THE FLOOR


	9. Episode 8 - The Ferryman

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is, the last chapter.

“Oh! Look who we have here!”

I saw white. Let me repeat that for you: I saw white. As in my eyes were working!

I was lying in a white room, except it wasn’t a room because I couldn’t find the beginning or end of the walls, floor or ceiling. The only thing in the room with distinguishable features was a blood red armchair and the man sitting in it. I studied the man carefully, relishing in the feeling of being able to observe something through my own eyes again.

The man was ridiculously skinny. As if he was just a skeleton with a thin layer of muscle and skin stretched over it but somehow he still looked relatively young. His hair came from under his dirty brown hood in long gray strands as he was seated cross legged and with one elbow leaning against the railing of the chair. He had a satisfied grin on his face as he observed me as well.

I had about a million fucking questions running through my head until I finally settled with:

“Why can I see?”

The man chuckled, while I lifted myself up in a sitting position – I could actually watch myself doing it!

“Because this is the part of your brain that controls your vision, obviously.”

“Yeah, obviously, stupid question, what was I thinking,” I responded sarcastically. If he got to be sassy than so could I! “I must be dreaming. Or this is some weird afterlife thing no one told me about…”

“Oh calm down, you’re not dead,” the man waved his hand as if to wave my worries away. Heh, I had forgotten people did that…

“But… The thing,” I touched the spot where I had been pierced. There was no wound. “… North, he…” Skinny McSkeleton didn’t answer, just looked at me as I tried to figure it out. “That wasn’t North, was it? He’d never do that…” I mumbled, not even sure of it myself anymore.

“I’m afraid that our friend North wasn’t exactly who he said he was,” he said sadly, “You’ve heard of Koios, right? Of course you have, you’re a huge nerd.” I took a little offense to that.

“What’s he got to do with this?”

“Titans can change their appearance however they want. It shouldn’t be hard for them to look and sound like a teenage boy and get themselves enrolled in high school.”

Koios, titan of foresight, ice and snow and ruler of the north, brother to other titans such as Hyperion, titan of sun and light and ruler of the east, Oceanus, titan of water and oceans, Mnemosyne, titaness of memory, Rhea, titaness of earthly elements and queen of Orthys, Tethys, titaness of the seas and mother of Achilles and Kronos, king of the titans and ruler of time. Koios who was married to Phoebe, titaness of mystery.

‘I have a brother who can create light out of his hands, one who can control water, I’ve got a sister who could erase all of our memories if she wanted to, a sister can control the earth, another sister who can also control water and my youngest brother can make time slow down,’ was what he’d told me. ‘My little brother is going through some stuff,’ he’d told me. ‘I had a girlfriend called Phoebe,’ he’d told me.

Wow, I was stupid.

“Fuck…” I muttered, looking at the white ground under my knees in defeat. He got me good and it broke my heart in tiny little pieces.

“Nah, don’t worry about it, I’m making sure you’ll be good as new when you wake up. That’s what bros are for,” the man said from his armchair, thinking I was cursing about having died. I mean, yeah it was curse-worthy but I was kind of distracted by who made me die in the first place.

“Why? Who are you?” I asked.

“Haven’t you guessed by now?”

I had a presumption but I wasn’t completely sure. Only one way to find out, right?

“You’re Charon, aren’t you?”

“Ding ding ding, we have a winner!”

“But… I don’t understand.” And I _really_ didn’t understand. I didn’t even know where to begin!

“Dylan, how did you become blind?” Charon sat forward and leaned his elbows against his knees and rested his chin upon his hands, looking at me with interest. So that’s what that looked like…

“I had a seizure. Part of my brain shut down.”

“The vision part?”

“The one you claim we’re in, yeah.”

“Well, that’s why it’s not working,” he said as if it was, again, obvious.

“What?”

“A body can only occupy one soul. A body disintegrates when it carries more than one,” he explained slowly but not as if he was talking to a child, but like he had respect that I even came this far.  “Though you can barely call me a complete soul anymore, it must’ve put quite some stress on you to carry me around with you for all those years.”

“You’re saying… That I became blind because I had two souls living in me?”

“I had to make room to survive in your body. Unfortunately, your vision had to go.”

“But… why?”

“I was dying, Dylan,” he shrugged, but his grin became smaller and his eyes looked sad. “I can’t die. Or at least, my position can’t die. Someone has to be responsible for the lost souls who need a way to cross the Styx. When I was attacked in my boat, murdered by Koios, my body dissolved in golden dust, like it does with every mythical creature, but my spirit refused to go to Tartarus with all the other monsters. Instead of going down, I went up, in search for a body that could be my successor.”

“Successor?” I sat straighter, having a feeling as to where this was going. “So, you’re not going to take over my body like the titan Kronos did with that demigod boy who jumped in the Styx?”

“My time has gone. I find it easier to except than the titan of time himself, ironically.”

“But… does that mean… I’m supposed to ferry ghosts across the Styx in your place?”

“That’s right,” Charon’s grin was back as he nodded in confirmation, “You’ve been doing a good job of familiarizing yourself with the Underworld, even without my guidance.”

“Your guidance?”

“Who do you think you inherited your shadow traveling from?”

“Honestly, I thought it was because I was a demigod,” I had thought that ever since Nico Di Angelo put the thought in my head.

“Not quite in the way you think. You don’t have any godly parentage, but you are partly human and partly god because of my influence on your being. That happens when you have to walk around with two souls. But I did it deliberately as well,” he said back again, relaxing in the armchair. “I used to have enough powers to decorate this room with a tv and everything but I’ve been giving those powers to you, slowly but surely. I only have a slice of powers left and I’m going to give them to you as well.”

Oh yeah, I knew definitely where this was going…

“But without your power… You’ll…”

“Yes, I’ll disappear,” he sighed. “The powers I’m giving you is the only thing keeping me alive right now. But you’re ready.”

I stood up from where I was sitting and looked around the room again. So this is what the back of my brain looks like? Neat. I carefully took it all in because…

“I won’t be able to see again when I wake up, will I?”

“I’m sorry. I’m afraid I’ve destroyed that part of your brain for good,” and he really did look like he was sorry, with his eyebrows creased and everything.

“It could’ve been worse though. I could’ve died,” I said, echoing the words the doctors used to say to me.

“That is correct. I know you’re the right person to give my job because you survived me in your head all those years. It was destined for us to be one and the same person for all those years,” Charon looked around the room as well, taking it all in for the last time, probably. “You should wake up now. There are many who need your guidance.” He turned to me and lifted his hand in a wave. “Good luck.”

And everything turned dark again.

* * *

 

The first thing I heard was muffled voices, as if I had water in my ears. There were people slowly walking around and talking to each other in soft voices.

As I breathed in and out again, with only a little pain in my midriff, I felt my breath touch what felt like cloth that was put over my face and the rest of my body for that matter.

The voices came closer and slightly more distinguishable.

“-about this one?”

“That’s Micheal… from the Apollo cabin,” a thick voice said. She sounded like she’d been crying for hours. “What happened to him?”

“We’re not sure. We found him near what’s left of the Williamsburg Bridge,” the first voice responded. He sounded relatively okay. “What about this one? Do you recognize him?”

“… No, actually. I’ve never seen him before. Maybe he was on Kronos’ side?”

“Well, we found him impaled by an enemy’s spear so we can’t be sure. ” Oh, okay, they were talking about me and it was a spear that impaled me. Nice. “We’ll have to look through his stuff later, maybe we can find an identification in his bag. What about the next one?”

They moved on and I waited until they were out of the room and it was quiet before I sat upright and took the cloth off of my face. I was blind again.

However, I could sense the entire room around me, or the shadows at least. I was surrounded by bodies, also all covered by a blanket or some other kind of fabric, probably whatever they could find, and none of them were breathing. The furniture had been put aside to make room for the deceased but there were a few people sitting in a couch at the other side of the room, probably mourning one of their friends or relatives.

I quietly got up, grabbing my backpack that was lying near my feet, hoping they hadn’t noticed me waking up from between a bunch of dead people. I had been declared dead after all, people might freak out. I had just slipped out through the door when I heard someone say ‘what the fuck’ behind me.

After looking around for a while, I found out I was in the Empire State building. Why? No idea, but at least it wasn’t the Underworld just yet. No, I’d visit that later, after making sure everything up on the surface was back in order.

I took the stairs out of the building, before grabbing my phone from my bag so I could call mom, however she had already called a numerous amount of times and left three messages, all of which contained the voice of my mother sounding very worried because her son had been missing for two days and ordering me to come home. So that’s the next thing I did; I shadow traveled straight to the front door of our apartment and got in to confront the worst thing of all: a worried mother.

* * *

 

In the end, I didn’t get grounded but mom did drag me to the couch to smother me in her arms and telling me how much she loves me and how scared she was and ‘what if something had happened because you can’t see and all those years I should’ve been there for you, you could’ve been seriously injured’ and many more stuff that made me blush and appreciate my mother that bit more.

After we’d watched tv for a while, still tangled up in each other, mom fell asleep. I tried to wiggle out of her grasp, succeeded, covered her with a blanket and sent her a text to tell her I was out to check on some friends that she could read when she woke up.

Then I took my backpack again and shadow traveled, for the first time in a year, to the Underworld.

* * *

 

The shore was way more crowded than it had ever been. I have to admit I was intimidated at first, but I knew what I had to do this time and how to do it. Charon’s powers made it so I could sense each and every soul waiting to cross over. Most of them were demigods and all of them had died during the battle of Manhattan. I swallowed and climbed into my boat.

“Okay, everyone, sorry for the wait!” I called out, my hands cupping my mouth like a make-shift megaphone, “I know this is scary but you don’t have to worry. Welcome to the Underworld. In a few minutes, I want you to approach this boat one by one and have a drachma ready which you should have in your hand!” I heard murmuring as if some souls only now realized that they had been holding a drachma this whole time. “Please don’t push each other, there’s room for everyone, and I can guarantee you that falling in the Styx is not a pleasant experience. Now, line up, please!”

And they did. I rummaged around, knowing that there was a jar somewhere, before finding it under one of the seats. All I had to do next was keep it raised and make sure no souls got in without paying. But they were all very obedient.  After the last one had gotten in, I moved myself around so I was at the back of the ferry and all souls were facing me.

“I promise, the Underworld is not as bad as everyone makes it out to be,” I said so the air of fear would go down a little bit. It was only half true but they didn’t have to know that yet. After all, I couldn’t tell which soul would get which judgement. Some souls’ mood did perk up a bit and with that I started moving the boat with my will, just like it always had.

* * *

 

Elysium felt more defined now that I could sense the shadows surrounding it. I could actually tell what Achilles’ and Pat’s villa looked like – despite the fact that Pat had described it to me multiple times, his words didn’t do the building on the hill justice.

They were in the garden, holding each other tightly but neither was saying anything. If I judged their shadows right, they were facing the agora, which was on the foot of the hill, Achilles’ arm of Pat’s shoulder who had his face against Chilli’s shoulder.

I didn’t know what to say. I was aware that Achilles had to watch me die. What would he say? What should I say? In the end, I didn’t have to say anything because Achilles turned and saw me.

“Dylan,” he sighed, “Thank the gods you were sent to Elysium.”

Pat looked up from Chilli’s shoulder and stood up, coming in for a hug but going straight through me before I could stop him. Pat’s stature seemed like someone had just shot his puppy or something; arms open and shoulders sacked.

“I’m not dead yet,” I said trying to sound lighthearted, “I’m not here to live in Elysium just yet.”

Achilles stood up now too and put his hand on the small of Pat’s back.

“But… I saw you…” he said disbelievingly, “The spear, it…”

“It’s quite a lot to explain,” I shrugged and hoped I looked apologetic. I did genuinely feel bad about making them so sad. “The only downside is that I have to wait a little longer before I can hug you.”

They both had to chuckle at that and I sensed Pat’s shadow moving forward before I was surrounded by cold air. Gods, I wished I could hug them!

I sat down with them at the top of the hill, wedged between Chilli and Pat while I told them about Charon and the whole thing with North… no, Koios. Achilles told us about what he’d seen after he saw me die. Two days lasted the battle in Manhattan, and there had been monsters everywhere. At some point, Hades himself came out of the Earth with the boy who had been at the Styx, Nico, and an army of zombie warriors and skeletons. Achilles noted that both Nico and Hades had passed what was left of me – my limp dead body being held up by a spear, the sword I had used to kill a monster still at my feet – and Nico had looked extremely sad while Hades bowed his head in respect. Achilles had stayed with him the entire time. Until eventually the battle moved up the Empire State building and into Olympus. Achilles had known the demigods had won because they had come out of the building and had started counting casualties, bringing them to the skyscraper. He had watched as two sons of Apollo wedged the spear out of my midriff, closed my unfocused eyes and carried me away. Achilles watched them and then turned away to wait for me with Pat in Elysium, knowing for certain that that’s where I’d end up.

When it started to get late on the surface, I said my farewells to Pat and Chilli, promising them I’d come back soon, but now I had something to discuss with Hades.

* * *

 

I was prodded awake by a gentle but stern hand.

“Boy, I’m afraid that you’re not allowed in here. Laros, that spirit over there will lead you the way outside,” I heard a young woman say, strong with authority. I shook my head weakly, still a bit sleepy.

“Sorry,” I mumbled while I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes, “I need to speak with Lord Hades. When is he coming back?”

“He went off to his chambers to think certain matters out. You’ll have to do with me,” she said as she gracefully moved to one of the thrones I was leaning against and sat down, her dress following her like a gentle spring breeze. Oh shit. I quickly stood up myself and moved away from the thrones.

“Ah, forgive me, Lady Persephone,” I said quickly, scratching my head in embarrassment, “I must have fallen asleep while waiting for you husband.”

She hummed.

“What are you here for? You better tell me, I’m much more gentle with the living, who, by the way, aren’t supposed to be here,” she said curtly.

“Uh, Lord Hades gave me permission to come and go whenever I pleased,” I reasoned, “He also told me to come to him when I am ready.”

“Ready for what?”

“So you are prepared to take the job?” Another voice cut in, and out walked Hades from the shadows with much more elegance and grace than I ever had.

“Lord Hades,” I bowed while he went over to his own throne and took Persephone’s hand in his.

“You have come here to tell me you want to be the new ferryman?” He asked with even more authority than his wife. I stood back up straight.

“Yes,” I said with confidence, “I am ready.”

* * *

 

**End of season 1**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU ALL FOR READING I HOPE YOU ENJOYED  
> Leave kudos and comments are very much appresciated! Let me know your constructive criticism, I want to become better (and this entire story was written in 9 days so it is not betad or edited or anything.

**Author's Note:**

> YOU MADE IT TO THE END AND I THANK YOU FOR THAT!
> 
> Again, please leave your thoughts. Would you like this to be continued or should I just do it in my dark little corner?  
> Thank you for reading!


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